Just so Long and Long Enough
by QuillInkAndParchment
Summary: Shay Morse works for the Ministry of Magic, breeding and training winged horses. She soon receives a request to work in Romania with the dragon reserve, in an effort to change taming methods. Eventual Charlie Weasley/OC
1. Pegasus Farm

** While reading _Goblet of Fire_ I realized how curious I was about Charlie and his life in Romania. Considering JKR left it mostly up to interpretation, i came up with this little story. Just some background information that may come in handy later:  
*Saoirse, according to my resources, means "freedom", and is pronounced close to "Sheer-sha" or "Share-sha" More according to my laziness than anything else, I gave her the nickname "Shay"  
*There are three types of winged horses, not including thestrals. I detail them somewhat in the beginning, but if you're curious the Harry Potter wiki has some information on each.****  
**

**DISCLAIMER: Almost anything you see in this story actually belongs to J.K. Rowling. The only things that are of my creation are the individual horses, the four living on the farm, Shay's family, and pretty much anyone else with a name you don't recognize.  
Also, what you see here I've written just for fun. While critiques are, of course, appreciated, please keep in mind that I won't be taking them entirely to heart. I know this story and the characters and all the rest has (probably enormous) flaws, but that's part of the fun of it.  
Take it for what it is, and enjoy!**

* * *

To the ordinary Muggle's eye, this was no more than a vast sweep of green was nothing more than what it appeared to be: a field for grazing animals, inhabited by a small quantity of the normal inhabitants. A stocky Ardennes horse roamed lazily, nose to the ground. Further up, a small flock of sheep congregated like thunderclouds. As they walked or drove or bicycled down the narrow, curving street that all but came up to the farmhouse's front door, they didn't see the curious tilt of winged horse ears, didn't hear the rush of their wings (although maybe they mistook the sound for a wind they could hardly feel) and they definitely didn't see the bony black horses moving in the shadows of one of the furthest barns crunching on bones they had kept from previous dinners, enjoying the marrow. And if any of the Muggles noticed the smell of single-malt whiskey wafting over the road, they didn't pay it much mind. All in all, it was a quiet little Welsh farm, nestled away and protected by a full range of spells. Spells to make the farm larger than it appeared and to hide the creatures who lived there.

The house was of a good size and white as a cloud. Its garden was circled by a stone wall, broken by a cast-iron gate and teeming with greenery. A sleek white cat was perched on the wall, washing a paw, green eyes squinted closed. To the eye of a Muggle, the only thing out of the ordinary to see of this little farmhouse was the barn owl perched on its rooftop in broad daylight. It was a thing that could easily be shrugged off, unimportant, merely an oddity in an otherwise normal day. They continued on their own little lines, never intersecting with the people who made the farm what it was.

* * *

It was five thirty in the morning, and no one passed on the little winding road. The sun was barely awake, peeping above the horizon like a bleary toddler rubbing its eyes over the coming of morning. It cast its rays over the ground, streaming through the windows and into the farmhouse where the smell of coffee and toast mingled with the faint, sweet scent of orange marmalade. In the back hall, a place the sun had yet to find, two small, sock-clad feet slid into a pair of Wellington boots that once had been bright, fire-engine red. Dressed comfortably in Muggle clothes - faded, worn (but never holey) blue jeans, green t-shirt, black fleece - the young woman pressed heavily against the wooden door whose hinges stuck. After a few quick shoves of her shoulder, the thing swung open with a complaining groan. Boots skimming through the dew-wet grass, she cut across to the largest barn, putting the whole of her slight weight into pulling open the large double doors. As if it had been waiting for just this opportunity, the sun pushed past the petite young woman (not much of an adversary, really) and into the shadows.

The barn was a large structure with five spacious rows of stalls pressed to each wall. Stacked on top of these like building blocks were five more stalls, accompanied by no more than a thin wooden walkway enchanted to protect against falls. There were three barns like this, each spaced a good distance from its companions. In each barn, winged horses were waiting, shifting their wings and stomping their hooves, ready for breakfast and flight.

"Morning, my lovelies!" The young woman called into the barns' depths, from which came the responses of the impatient creatures. Perhaps they only knew her as "the strange two-legged thing who brings food," but, hey, if it got her this kind of a welcome she could deal with that. With a flick of her wand (for the girl was, quite obviously, a witch) the doors to all twenty stall doors slid open and twenty Abraxans walked and flew to press close around her, butting her with their noses and shoving their withers against her shoulders.  
"Hey, now!" The voice was sharp, commanding, and hardly what one would expect from this particular girl. "Easy, or there won't _be_ breakfast, am I clear? Line up!"The horses turned and pranced off, nipping and kicking in small doses as pecking order was established, the last-in-line standing with his head quite low. At the front, the lead stallion arced his neck, fluttered his wings, and pranced.  
"Hallo, Altair. Hold still a moment, you brute, it's coming." Stifling a yawn, she disappeared a moment into a store-room, and emerged again with a large barrel following along behind her. Another wave of the wand brought a long trough up from the floor in front of the horses, whose wings lifted from their backs in anticipation.  
"Don't you dare!" Their human caretaker scolded sharply. Their wings folded petulantly, and Altair stretched his neck to nip at a curling lock of chestnut hair. She slapped at the muzzle which jerked away with a snort. "Look, you lot, do you want breakfast or not?"

Altair snorted and seemed to nod his head decisively, pawing at the ground with a fore hoof. The witch's wand flicked, the barrel tipped, and single-malt whiskey streamed into the trough. Altair's head dipped first, followed by the lead mare, and on down the line. Abraxans were big, powerful things who ate only single-malt whiskey: golden in color, but not always at heart with shining, ruby-red eyes. They required a good degree of force, a strength that could combat their own brute force. They were good creatures, really, if only much too aware of their own strength and what it could earn them. Any show of fear, even the slightest tremble, could lose you an Abraxan's respect for ever.

Leaving the horses to their own herd mechanics to sort out the rest of breakfast, the young woman moved on to the next barn (chestnut Aethonans, whom she treated with a much gentler demeanor) and the next (silver-grey Granians). Saving the Thestrals for last was her usual practice: though she loved the rest of the herds, the Thestrals held a special place. They appeared fearsome but, bred from Hogwarts' own herd and given to her by Hagrid himself, the small herd had begun with only a few little foals. Perhaps that was what kept her so attached to them, the memory of little, bony-black things who stumbled over their own wings but could tear into a raw shank of meat with the best of them. They were sweet and gentle with people, when trained correctly, and these ones happily came to meet her when she approached with their bright red raw breakfast.

"Hello, all of you," she whispered, letting their dragon-like faces inspect her with the gentleness of a lamb. They nudged into her pockets, white eyes glittering. Their glossy coats shifted, rippling over the bones beneath, a sight that had made her cringe as a second-year.

"_They won' hurt 'ye," _Hagrid had said, appearing behind the twelve year old rather suddenly. His voice was low, and she remembered that he kept glancing at her schoolmates. _"They jus' look a bit funny, is all."_And he had been right, of course. From then on, she'd sneak out some nights, down to the kitchens and then to the forest where she could watch the thestrals to her heart's content. One had become a special companion of hers, a colt who would rest his head on her lap when she stretched out beneath a tree, his leathery wings folded like a baby chick's. It was one of his foals who had started this herd.

"Shay!"

She glanced up from the filly who had been nudging her hands with a sharp nose, over her shoulder to the house behind. A wild, golden-haired head emerged from one of the windows.

"Shay! Mail's here!"

"I'll be right there, Addie!"

Saoirse Abigail Morse (or Shay, as most preferred to call her) was nineteen years old and a full-fledged member of the wizarding world outside of Hogwarts. Petite and slender with curling brown hair and bright blue eyes, she didn't look much the type to handle Abraxan horses or hippogriffs, but she managed just fine despite the fact. She gave each thestral a last scratch behind the ears and turned back to the house, watching as the horses each moved into their own stretches of land. The herds were separated, of course, by magical barriers. These same barriers kept them from flying high enough to interfere with any Muggle airplanes or scampering away into other farmlands. And still there was enough room for them to stretch their wings.

The front door opened easily, and Shay stepped inside, peeling her Wellies from her feet and padding down the sunlit corridor to the kitchen. The day was breaking bright and warm: Shay pulled the fleece off and draped it on a nearby coat hook. The same blonde who had called Shay in from the fields was frying sausages over the stove. She turned in and grinned at Shay.

"Mail's on the table," she said cheerily. "Breakfast?"

"No thanks," Shay replied absently, sorting through the mail. "I already ate."

The other girl snorted. "If you call a puny slice of bread with a bit of marmalade eating…"

Shay chuckled, sliding three envelopes from the pile on the table.

"Addie, you know me."

"Ach, you've hardly got more flesh on you than those thestrals."

"Excuse me!" Shay said with a laugh. "Just because I eat nothing more than toast or fruit for breakfast hardly makes me a thestral."

Addie hummed noncommittally, turning back to her stove. Heavy footsteps thumped down the back stairs, leaping over the last one (a hollow stair where a boggart had taken up residence: a very particular boggart who didn't bother to wake up unless you made his stair creak).

"Morning, all!" a deep male voice rumbled. "What's breakfast?" "Morning, Rob," the two girls chorused.

"Where's Aaron?" Addie asked, prodding a sausage with a fork.

"Asleep. Where else? What's this?" "Breakfast," Addie replied. "Or part of it."

"Where's the rest of it?"

"Yet to be made,"

Shay shook her head, grabbing another mug of coffee on her way out of the kitchen. She entered the shabbily comfortable sitting room, flopping down on the uneven cushions of the sofa and peeling into the two envelopes. One was a letter from her cousin, Oliver Wood, focused mostly on Quidditch, though it fumbled to an awkward close when he asked _"How in the world do I decipher girls, Shay? Does she fancy me, or am I making it all up?" _Awkward, but endearing. Shay chuckled and set the letter aside, noting that she would have to write Ol back, when she had time to shfit through all of the Quidditch chatter. The next one was significantly thicker, addressed from her parents. Inside, a three page letter and a packet of photos, as if her mother had been so excited by each of them that she just had to have picture after picture after picture.

The letter, like all of those by her mother, was chatty and mid-deep and happy, including several photographs. The letter rambled on, explaining in detail each and every photo until, finally, it came to its "_Love, Mum"_conclusion. And then, in hurried, slanting scrawl: _P.S. Dad got first-rate tickets to the Quidditch World Cup! There's one for you, if you'd like to come_

"Hey!" Shay called through the house, receiving two mumbled responses. "Any way you could cover for me a couple of days this August?"

"I don't see why not," Addie called back. "Why, though?"

"Dad got World Cup tickets, and Mum wants me to join them. I haven't seen them in ages, so I might as well."  
"Think your thestrals can live without you?" Rob asked. Shay rolled her eyes and walked back to the kitchen, leaning in the doorframe.  
"I think they'll be just fine, with Aaron and Addie looking after them. Don't you dare try to, though. You'd end up tossing meat to squirrels."

"Not my fault I've never seen anyone kick the bucket," Rob replied, reaching over as Addie set down the tray of sausages. She swatted his hand away.

"Wait for plates, at least. You're not an animal."

Rob growled, wrinkling his nose, grey eyes sparkling mischievously. Addie set down three plates and sets of silverware, three glasses, three mugs. Shay cradled her own coffee mug in her hands, taking a sip.

"Ireland vs. Bulgaria," she said thoughtfully. "Anyone want to open the betting?"

"Three Galleons on Ireland," said a smooth tenor voice from behind: Aaron had finally appeared, the sharp features of his face shadowed from lack of sleep. He eased his thin frame into one of the wooden chairs, propping his head up with a hand.

"Were you up all night again?" Addie scowled. Aaron shrugged, looking up at his sister with his usual melancholy gaze.

"Just 'til two thirty," he said. Shay sacrificed her mostly-full cup of coffee, sliding it across the rough wood until it touched Aaron's elbow. He nodded his appreciation, moving to cradle the cup in his hands, taking a deep gulp.

"Two thirty when you're up at six is not a good thing," Addie scolded. "Not when dealing with these horses, you idiot."

Aaron took another sip of coffee, set the mug down, and ruffled a hand through his shaggy blonde hair.

"Tell me something I don't know, Add," he said sharply. Then: "How about that bet, Shay?"

"I'll bet," Rob said, "that Bulgaria gets the Snitch."

"Bulgaria?" Aaron asked.

"Krum's a good Seeker," Rob shrugged.

"One good player against Ireland's full team," Aaron replied. "I'd say those are damn good odds."

"All right, everyone," Addie cut in. "Why don't we eat breakfast and forget about Quidditch for all of two seconds? Shay, you sure you don't want anything?"

"Positive, Adds. But thanks."

Shay poured herself a replacement cup of coffee and sat down at the table, letting the day and her friends wake up around her.

The day of the cup arrived, and Shay woke earlier than usual to say her good-byes to the horses: the rowdy Abraxans, the gentle Aethonans, the highs strung Granians and the ethereal thestrals. The morning was silent and chill without the sun: as she walked, Shay drank coffee from a thermos and passed apples to some horses, sugar cubes to others, and strips of beef to the thestrals. Pockets finally empty she made her way back to the house, changed her clothes, ran a brush through her hair and left again with a satchel: she would stay with her family until Catrina left for Hogwarts, and then, finally, she would head back to the horses. The trek to the marked place for Apparition was not a far one, but it was long enough for her to mull over just what she was thinking. Everyone went to the World Cup, if they could. It wasn't an event that was lightly missed in wizarding society, after all. She turned quickly on her heel and with a crack which startled the grazing of some of the horses, vanished into thin air.


	2. Ireland vs Bulgaria

**((This...is probably my least favorite part of what I have written, so far. I promise that this will become more exciting. Don't worry. I just want to establish the time and characters more than anything else. Also, it'll come in again, later on. : )  
I couldn't resist throwing a bone to myself and stirring in one of my favorite character pairings. You'll see for yourselves, don't worry. **

**To those of you who set this story to their Alerts, commented, or even just read, thank you. I love seeing those numbers go up whenever I check this site. It kind of makes my day. Here's Chapter Two!)) **

The campsites were crushes of people, crowded and exuberant and beautiful. Green, shamrock-covered tents, Viktor Krum's scowling face, and more than anything, people everywhere. Greeting, hugging, calling, running, playing, laughing. All idea of hiding from Muggles seemed to have been abandoned as sparks of multiple colors erupted from wands. Clutching a pair of Omnioculars and a bottle of Butterbeer in one hand, her other rested on her sister's shoulder, Shay and her family pressed through the crowds and into the stands, up many flights of stairs and into a box high above the green below. From far across the pitch came Ludo Bagman's magically enhanced voice, booming out across the field to fill up every stand. Settling back in her seat, Shay adjusted her Omnioculars, took a sip of butterbeer, and turned to her sister.

"So, Kitten, which House for you?" She asked. Catrina wrinkled her nose at the old nickname, but seemed to consider the question.

"As long as it's not Slytherin," she said slowly, "I'll be happy."

Shay laughed.

"You have good taste, for an eleven year old."

Catrina stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes.

"Catrina Eira Morse, one of these days your face is going to freeze like that, and then you'll be sorry."

Emily More propped her hands on her hips, glaring down at her younger daughter. The eleven year old slumped in her seat and crossed her arms, eyes focused and tongue back in her mouth. Emily sighed. "Sit up straight," she huffed, taking a seat beside her eldest daughter. Emily Morse was a woman who had once been a great beauty, and it was evident on her face. Age hadn't taken her beauty, but mellowed it, sinking lines into her elegant face and knotting her hands. One of these hands gripped her eldest daughter's arm, examining a set of marks ingrained in the flesh. "What's this?" She asked, turning Shay's arm back and forth. Shay winced, realizing suddenly that the short sleeves had been a mistake.

"He bit me," she said shortly, pulling her arm away. "And that _hurts, _Mum."

"Well, I should imagine so! Who bit you?"

"I'm not sure," Adam Morse said as he took a seat next to his wife, "that I want to know what you're talking of, over here."

Shay laughed, turning so that her father could see the prints in her skin.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed. "Who did that?"

"My lead Abraxan," she responded. "He got, er…too excited one morning at breakfast."

"I don't like you working with those creatures," Emily sing-songed.

"They're just horses, Mum, not dragons. They're not even _hippogriffs_, for goodness' sake."

"They're dangerous," Emily responded. "Obviously, considering they took a chunk out of your arm."

"A chunk? Mum, that's hardly even a nip."

"My point exactly! You didn't go to Hogwarts so that…"

"Look! Mascots!"

Shay's father, in an obvious attempt at distraction, held his Omnioculars to his eyes and peered down into the stadium below. A group of veela had assembled (much to Emily's displeasure) and had begun to dance. A wild, spinning, launching dance that alternately fascinated and repelled Shay. And then suddenly, from above, two balls of light. They separated and melded again before forming a large, glittering shamrock high in the air, showering gold coins down on the spectators. Catrina laughed her delight, scooping the coins up in her palms.

"Careful," Mr. Morse said with a grin, "Leprechauns can be tricky."

"Dad!" Catrina laughed, "It's just coins!"

She tucked them away in her pocket, drawing her knees up to her chest and circling them with her arms. Mrs. Morse tutted at the fact that Catrina's feet were on the chair, yet no one made a move to scold her. The air of festivity had taken over them all, and almost anything could have been acceptable, now. Finally, the mascots took their respective places on the sidelines, and Lugo Bagman's voice announced the names of the Bulgarian players. Curious, Shay focused the Omnioculars on their Seeker. She didn't see what the big deal was about, really. He looked like an eagle chick that had grown up too quickly; his nose was too big for his face, and he held his shoulders a bit awkwardly. But his eyes were sharp and flinty, and Shay knew in the moment she saw them that he had to be a fantastic Seeker.

Shay had never been a Quidditch player, much to her father's displeasure. Catrina had always shown signs of being adept with a broomstick, and was so quick and coordinated that the family was sure she would soon be a Chaser. But Shay had always been more of a feet-firmly-planted kind of a girl. The flying lessons given to her in first year had been interesting, and she had enjoyed the brief interludes of flight. She would find, as she grew, that she preferred the solid, rocking motion of a flying horse over the thin handle of a broom any day.

Yet watching Quidditch had always been great fun, and she had read _Quidditch Through the Ages _when her cousin gave it to her, one Christmas. She had watched every game at Hogwarts, every single one, and she had learned just what it was that made a Quidditch team win or lose. Although she had to admit the fact that watching wasn't always just about Quidditch: some of the boys who played were really very attractive. Especially those who had nothing to do with Slytherin.

Shay shook her head and returned to the present moment, pressing her Omnioculars more closely to her eyes as the action began. Ludo Bagman was only calling out names, now, as the Quaffle soared back and forth between Chasers. Ireland took the lead early on, much to the delight of those clad in green (her own little shamrock pin was squealing its excitement) which only served to anger the Bulgarian team. Bludgers began to fly more aggressively, swung into action by the ferocious Bulgarian beaters.

Then, suddenly, like birds of prey combating over a morsel of meat, the two Seekers began to plunge to the ground. Faster and faster they went, careening toward the green, green grass below until….Lynch smashed into the ground, Krum soared back into the sky, and the crowd groaned. Fiddling with her Omnioculars, Shay watched the words "Wronski Feint - Dangerous Seeker Diversion" flash up. She groaned in unison with the crowd. An unfortunate trick to fall for, allowing Krum time to locate the Snitch while Lynch was attended to by medi-wizards. Finally, the Irish Seeker was back in the air and play commenced. It was brutal, more war than game. Shay couldn't help but imagine trumpets blaring and banners waving, as they might have long ago.

It seemed that the game was dissolving in on itself, so much happening at once that it was difficult to know where to look. The veela had taken offense to something the leprechauns were doing, and strode out on the field while their appearances rapidly changed into something terrible. Fire seemed to shoot from their hands while Ministry wizards tried desperately to intercede.

In the end poor, battered Lynch hit the ground once again while Krum rose, bleeding, into the sky with the Snitch clutched in his hand. It was the end of the game, but Ireland's victory. The cheers of the supporters crashed through the stands while the team, jumping and crying out their victory, began the ascent to the top box directly across from the Morses. The box had been brightly illuminated so that all could see the glorious victors accepting their trophy. Shay squinted into it, trying to make out the figures who were little more than shadows, at the moment.

"Shay," Catrina whispered, "Use your Omnioculars, stupid." Shay laughed, muttered: "Of course," and peered through the lenses. There was the Bulgarian team, dignified even if they had been defeated (and Krum, looking even more awkward on the ground than he did on a broom), the victorious Irish team, and a bevy of other people. There was the bright blonde hair of the Malfoys, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and the visiting Minister from Bulgaria. And there, lined up like ducks, were the Weasleys. Shay grinned, focusing her Omnioculars in. Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George, Ron, and Ginny. With them were Hermione Granger and, of course, the famous Harry Potter. Harry, Hermione, and Ron had entered Hogwarts during Shay's sixth year. She well remembered the hush that had fallen over the Great Hall as Harry Potter had settled the Sorting Hat onto his head, hiding his scar (and most of the rest of his face) from view. Though they would never voice it aloud, each House desperately wanted to say that theirs was Harry Potter's House, theirs would house the Boy Who Lived. Even Slytherins looked on eagerly, hoping their ambition and cunning would be enough to lure in Harry Potter. Oliver, she remembered, had been ecstatic when Harry had shown his colors as a Seeker.

"_The Boy Who Lived, Shay! On my team! And he's a bloody brilliant Seeker, too. No way we can lose the Quidditch Cup, now!" _

Shay watched the Irish team accept their prize, but her attention was drawn back time and again to the Weasley clan. She had known most of them during her years at Hogwarts. Even little Ginny had been Sorted in Shay's seventh year. There was a last year at Hogwarts Shay would have traded for just about anything. Anything to not have the creature in the Chamber of Secrets pressed to everyone's minds. For the first time in her life at Hogwarts, Shay had gone home for all holidays, preferring the peace and safety away from whatever was roaming the grounds. At least the Boy Who Lived had saved the day again, rescuing little Ginny Weasley from her fate and destroying the Chamber's creature forever.

With the match over, the crowds began to press down the stairs and out of the pitch, rowdy with the excitement of the game. Even the Bulgaria supporters couldn't help but catch on to the excitement, arguing animatedly with whoever would listen that Bulgaria did not, under any circumstances, deserve that many penalties. Music and fireworks and all the rest streamed out into the night sky, enveloping the crowds in a feeling of familiarity, almost as if they had known each other for ever, and were just waiting for this moment to greet one another. Shay's family, joined by the Woods just outside of the pitch, ambled back through the night air to the Morse's tent. Shay had never liked the thing: it was a bit much for her tastes, too ostentatious, but her father adored it. It was built to resemble a palace, complete with turrets and flying flags and fireworks that could erupt from the "tower" with a wave of a wand. Inside was as luxurious as the outward appearance, all wide spaces and clean, shining surfaces. The two families sat around the "kitchen table" for a long time, chatting and sipping mugs of tea and cocoa (to which the fathers had added a healthy dose of alcohol, "hidden" from the mothers…who glanced at each other and winked conspiratorially.) The kids, as Shay, Oliver, and Catrina were still known, spent the time playing Exploding Snap and arguing happily over the finer points of the Quidditch match.

"I still think that Wronski Feint thing is just wrong," Shay said, glancing at the cards. "I mean, what's the other Seeker supposed to do? If he doesn't go for it, he runs the risk of being mistaken and not getting the Snith. If he _does _go for it, he ends up face-planted in the pitch."

"Which is why," Oliver said, slamming his wand into one of his cards a bit too forcefully, "it's such an excellenet move! You can't tell!"

"See, you're just for it because you're a Seeker," Shay said, pointing an accusatory finger at her cousin. "And don't ever have to worry about it. What about Harry Potter, hmm?"

"Harry," Oliver said, considering the game as he formed a reply, "Is too smart to fall for a Wronski Feint. Besides, the kid can see a Snitch in pea-soup fog from three miles away."

Shay rolled her eyes and took a long sip of cocoa.

"So, Ol," she said finally, glancing slyly at Catrina and then up at the parents. Luckily, the adults were too absorbed in a conversation in the sitting room portion that they paid no attention, "whose this girl you wrote me about?"

Catrina giggled.

"Ollie's got a girlfriend, Ollie's got a girlfriend," she sing-songed.

"Ollie _wishes_ he had a girlfriend," Shay corrected. "Come on, Ol. Tell."

Oliver sighed, watching the cards shuffle themselves.

"It's nothing," he said, tapping a card with his wind and wincing reflexively; nothing happened, and the game continued.

"Alright, that's a lie," Shay said as her turn came around. "Considering you seemed downright confused when you wrote me."

"Well, I didn't quite expect you to bring it up at the World Cup."

Shay shrugged, the turn passing to Catrina.

"Where else? It's not like we see you every day, Ol."

Oliver shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.

"Alright, alright," he said finally. "It's one of my old Chasers from…"

"Whoah, whoah. A teammate? Oliver, breaking your own rules, are you?"

Oliver's ears turned pink.

"She's not a teammate now," he defended. "I'm not her Captain anymore."

"Captain, my captain!" Catrina shrieked before dissolving in a fit of giggles.

"What's going on over there?" Mr. Wood called.

"Nothing, Uncle," Shay responded. "Just Cat being Cat."

As if this were an adequate response, Mr. Wood grinned and turned away.

"So, one of your Chasers. That narrows it down to three girls, then. Angelina, Alicia, or Katie. And considering Fred fancies Angelina and just won't tell her, even though it's obvious to the _whole entire school_, and you would never go against a friend in that sense, that actually leaves Alicia or Kate."

"Your logic is astounding," Oliver said dryly. Shay grinned smugly, settling back in her sea and watching the cards re-shuffle.

"Why else would I have been a Ravenclaw?" She asked. "Anyway, are you going to tell us which one it is, Ol, or are we going to have to take guesses?"

Oliver passed a hand over his face and mumbled a response. "Can't hear you through your hand," Shay said in monotone, amusedly watching her cousin try to avoid his own response, peering at him from over the brim of her cocoa mug.

"It's Bell," he said finally, and so fast that the words were barely distinguishable. "But she doesn't know, okay, so don't tell her! I know you two were friends at Hogwarts…"

"Oliver, settle down," Shay said, grinning uncontrollably. "I won't tell. So when did this…er…crush become apparent?"

"It's not a "crush". Where in blazes did you get that word, anyway? And…do you remember in her third year when she got Mumblemumps and couldn't leave the Hospital Wing?"

Shay raised an eyebrow, but nodded.

"I guess you could say I started to actually…pay attention? Then."

"When she was sick with Mumblemumps?"

Oliver's ears seemed to have filled their redness quota, and the color had begun to spread down his neck.

"She was so upset she couldn't fly," he recalled, "and she kept complaining that she was bored, so I'd go up there with my playbook and…"

Shay tried to stifle her laughter, with little success: it came out as a kind of hushed, braying snort.

"You made her help you with your Quidditch strategies?" She asked incredulously.

"I didn't _make_ her do anything! She wanted to help."

"Oh, sure. And being sick with Mumblemumps and having nothing to do did nothing at all to persuade her to help."

Oliver glared at his cousin, who smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry, Ol," she said. "Go on, I won't interrupt anymore. I promise."

Looking as though he didn't quite believe her, Oliver continued.

"So I guess it started then," he said, scratching the back of his neck self-consciously. "I just…didn't realize how helpless she could be, you know? Until she got sick. And I realized that I couldn't do anything to help, which only made things worse. Anyway, I didn't start to actually…er…fancy her until the next year. When she, Ang, and Alicia started giggling over Cedric Diggory and I felt…" His fist clenched on the table next to his cocoa mug, the veins beginning to stand out on his hand .

"Jealous?" Cat said in teasing sing song.

"Yeah," Oliver said, tipping back in his chair until it balanced on only two legs. "That. Anyway, I graduated that year so there wasn't much I could do. And then I didn't hear from here for a while, until I found out about Puddlemere. I sent her a letter, and we've been mailing back and forth since. I just…don't think she sees me as anything more than a friend."

For a moment, Oliver looked so forlorn that Shay wanted to cry and laugh in the same breath.

"Ol," she said instead, "How do you get that from a letter?"

Oliver shrugged, tipping his chair forward again.

"They're just always so…chatty," Oliver responded. "Like the weather and flying and things like that."

"Well, what do you write her about?"

"Puddlemere," Oliver responded quickly "and the cup, and strategies, and…"

"Quidditch?"

Oliver nodded sheepishly.

"There's your problem, you great buffoon. What else is she supposed to say if that's all you're talking about? Talk about something different for a while, and then make your judgements. And I'm sure it would help if you actually made it a point to see her. Get away from the team on a Hogsemeade weekend or something and meet her at the Three Broomsticks. "As friends," of course. For the time being. It really isn't that difficult, Oliver."

Oliver shook his head.

"See, you get this fantastic insight because you're a girl," he said. "You function in the same way. I'm totally lost."

"Your powers of observation," Shay said with a laugh, "are brilliant. Yes, I do know, because I'm a girl. So trust me, Ol. Just take the time to actually get to know her instead of getting to know her Quidditch IQ, alright?"

Oliver shrugged, the cards exploded, and all three "kids" jumped back from the table. Catrina's elbow knocked over her cocoa mug, spilling the sweet substance everywhere. It dripped from the table steadily and soaked the cards.

"Alright, you three," Mrs. Wood said with a fond smile. "I think it's time we all get some sleep." Mr. and Mrs. Wood stood from the sofa, and Oliver pushed his chair away from the table. With a wave of her wand, Shay cleared the cocoa from table and cards, put the game back in its case, and said goodbye to her aunt, uncle, and cousin. With one last chorus of good-nights, the Woods headed back to their own tents.

Shay said her good-nights to her family and turned in, burrowing under blankets that smelled of home. With all the excitement of the day, it didn't take long for Shay to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	3. Aftermath

The walk home was chill and silent, the walkers stunned into submission. Not one of their four spoke as they clambered down the hill and around the bend. Even as they came up upon the neat, white frame of their home and slipped through the white fence. No one felt the urge to, exhausted and disbelieving. Muggles suspended from midair, Death Eaters roaming the campground. It was like a nightmare come to life, fierce and burning. And then, to top it all off, the Dark Mark floating like hellish mist in the night sky.

Shay and Catrina were still dirt-smudged, twigs buried in their hair from running through the forest. The moment her father had whipped his wand from his pajama pockets, Shay had grabbed onto Catrinas\'s wrist and dragged her, blinking and mewling in protest, into the woods surrounding the camp. Yet even here it was a riot, a whirling mess of confused and fumbling people, mostly children exiled from family tents into relative safety.

"Well," Emily said, opening the front door, "Here we are."

They stepped inside, the home as neat and quiet as it had been when they'd left. As if none of the insanity of the World Cup had happened at all. "Anyone want breakfast? Tea?"

Shay smiled hazily at her mother's efforts, but shook her head. They'd been up for so long, all she could think about was sleep.

"I'm off to bed," she said, kissing her parents' cheeks and ruffling Catrina's hair. "Hopefully, when I wake up, this will all have been some strange, nasty dream."

"One can only hope," her father said with a yawn. "I've got to get off to work, Emily, but some tea would be lovely…"

Shay left them to the boiling of water and sorting of cups, kicking off her shoes and climbing the long staircase to her childhood bedroom. It was at the very top of the house, a round room rounded windows. Much like Ravenclaw Tower, in fact, she thought as she fell into bed, still wearing her Muggle jeans and shirt. Though it did not take her long to fall asleep, it was a fitful and light one. As if someone had her on the string of a marionette and jerked them taut whenever she was on the verge of blissful unconsciousness. Her dreams were brief and disturbing, hung over with silvery-green mist and hissing snakes.

Around noon, she gave up the battle for sleep and got out of bed, opening the largest window and leaning out. The summer air was warm and bright, the sun beating pleasantly on her face, reminding her of all the rest of the summers she'd spent in this very room. Waiting for now, in fact. She remembered sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring up at the sky and wondering just when she was going to be able to strike out on her own. To grow up. To really grow up, not just turn-another-year grow. And now here she was, on her own, of age and out of Hogwarts, and she yearned for the trouble-free days she'd spent during Hogwarts.

"Shay?"

She jumped, cracking the back of her head on the top of the window. Rubbing the sore spot emphatically, Shay turned sharply. Catrina stood in the doorway, freshly dressed with braided hair. The younger girl looked as if she didn't know whether or not to laugh.

"Ow," Shay whimpered, sinking down on the bed. "Ow. Cat, I think you may have killed me."

"I have not!" Catrina said, finally giving into the giggles and jumping up to sit next to her sister.

"Mum said we could go to Diagon Alley today. Will you come? Pleasepleaseplease?" Her eyes were enormous. Shay laughed.

"Fine, fine. I'll come. Just let me get ready, alright? I'm hardly fit to be seen, at the moment."

"Yes!" Catrina sprung off of the bed and out the door, her footsteps audible as they pounded down the hallway. "Mum!" She called as she ran, "Mum, Shay said she'll come, we just have to wait…"

Shay shook her head and turned to her bag, extracting and shaking out a new set of clothes. She changed and combed her fingers through her hair, finally wrestling it into a semi-presentable braid. Hopefully they could avoid the gossip and chatter that was inevitable following the World Cup. Much as it was…interesting…that the Death Eaters had appeared, Shay could remember the night well enough without reliving it.

With a pat to make sure her wand was still in her pocket, her money still in another, Shay jogged down the stairs, back into the kitchen.

"Dad still at work?" She asked as her mother shoved a sandwich into her hands. Shay glanced at it a moment, then took a bite.

"Yes, last night was quite a problem for the Ministry, obviously," Emily replied. "He didn't say when he'd be back. I figured now was good a time as any to get Catrina her school things."

Mouth full, Shay nodded, chewing through bread, lettuce, and turkey.

"Floo?" She asked after swallowing heavily, reaching for a glass of milk. Emily raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"Cat hates Side-Along, so I'll be taking the Floo along with her. You can go ahead and Apparate, if you'd prefer. Of course."

"Meet you …"

"Outside of Ollivander's," Emily replied. "First thing first." Then, she turned to her younger daughter. "Cat, fetch the Floo Powder, please. You know where it is?" Catrina nodded, dashing away. She reappeared a moment later with a satchet of Floo Powder in her hand. Shay gulped down the last of her lunch, and watched with a grin as her mother and sister approached the fireplace. After watching Catrina whirl away (having said, very clearly, "DIAGON ALLEY!") Shay waited for her mother to cast a handful of Floo Powder into the fire before she Disapparated with a pop, vanishing from her childhood home and reappearing, moments later, at the Leaky Cauldron. She waved to Tom, the bartender, on her way through. Counting the bricks, Shay tapped the right one with her wand and watched, fascinated as always, as the wall opened up into the bustling wizard commons that was Diagon Alley.

It was, as Shay had expected, abuzz with the news of the World Cup. Everyone was talking, in whispers and full-blown debate, about what had happened and the conduct of the Ministry in response to the event. No one seemed to be in agreement about anything, unless it was the fact that this merited much discussion. Yet it quieted as she neared Ollivander's, as if out of respect for the little old wizard who sold wands to young students. She had always been fond of Mr. Ollivander and his endearing, if eccentric, memory for each and every wand he sold.

Her mother and Catrina had yet to arrive, so Shay leaned against the building's wall, watching people pass. Wizards and witches of every class, age, size, and shape meandered past. Some had the shady look of those coming or going from Knockturn Alley, but most were pleasant enough. And then, finally, two familiar faces.

"Shay! Oh, good, you made it. Not that I thought you wouldn't, of course, but…"

"Shall we go in?" Asked Shay, cutting her mother off mid-sentence. "I'm sure Catrina is bursting to get a wand of her own."

Sure enough, Catrina was bouncing on the balls of her feet, light brown curls bobbing.

"Yes, quite right," Emily replied. "In you go, girls, let's get this wand."

Instantly upon stepping inside, the atmosphere closed in and the silence was complete. Chimes rang out their entrance in quiet, decisive voices, and Mr. Ollivander appeared from behind a shelf almost instantly.

"Ah," he said with a wispy smile, "The Morse family. This must be the youngest, yes?"

Catrina nodded shyly, trying to hide behind her mother.

"Yes," Ollivander said, "I remember your sister's wand very well. Willow, fourteen inches, with the heartstring of a quite impressive dragon, I remember it quite well. Still in prime condition, Miss. Morse?" Shay nodded.

"Works like a charm, Mr. Ollivander." The little old wizard chuckled, turning back into the store.

"Let's see, let's see," he murmured, fingers trailing over the many stacked boxes. "Let's try…this one."

Roughly an hour and a half (and a good headache) later, the three emerged from Mr. Ollivander's shop with Emily's wand: willow, eleven inches, with the tail hair of a unicorn Emily pressed a hand to her forehead as they made their way back into the street.

"Shay," she said finally, "Why don't you take your sister to look for a pet? I'm not sure I can stand the noise. I'll go to Flourish and Blotts…give me your list, dear." Catrina handed over her Hogwarts envelope quickly. "I'll meet you both in an hour outside of Madame Malkin's for Catrina's robe fittings. Mind the time, please."

Shay nodded and her mother walked away, still wincing at the clamor around her.

"C'mon, Cat, let's see what we can find," Shay said, taking her sister by the hand and leading her through Diagon Alley with an expert's navigation. The Menageria had, of course, always been her favorite shop.

It was dense and dark inside, the walls seeming to move as the owls and cats shifted to peer down at these new intruders. Eyes gleamed up at them, rats squeaking.

"Here from Hogwarts, dears…? Ah! If it isn't Saoirse Morse. I remember you."

Shay grinned, remembering the long, seeming-pointless stints she had spent hiding from Madame Malkins' excursions in this very shop. "How are you doing, my dear?"

"Quite well, thanks. Working with winged horses."

"For the Ministry?" "Partly," Shay replied. "Beauxbatons likes to keep in touch with us for our Abraxans, as well."

"Oh, of course. Who are you here for, today?"

"My sister's going to Hogwarts this year," Shay said. "And she could use a friend."

"Owl, cat, or toad, then dear?"

Catrina looked up at the woman, appearing to consider her options.

"Not a toad," she said finally. "Or anything with red eyes."

The shopkeeper chuckled, turning into the store.

"No toads, nothing with red eyes," she repeated. "Are rats out of the question?"

"Just so long as they're not black,"

"We have some white ones, would you like a look?" Catrina moved deeper into the store, cuddling with white and spotted rats before peering into owl's cages. The door chimed as someone new entered, and all of the eyes in the Menagerie turned.

"Oh, hello!" The shopkeeper chimed, her voice denoting recognition.

"Hello, again," a deeper voice replied. Shay glanced up from examining a particularly pretty calico cat to see who had spoken. There in front of her was Charlie Weasley, the Hogwarts Quidditch legend himself. Well…before Harry Potter had stolen his Seeker fame, anyway. Their eyes met for an instant, and Shay smiled, nodding to him. Charlie Weasley nodded in return, the corner of his mouth turning up just slightly.

"My owl's not taking too well to Romania," he said. "Anything here that can help?"

"Well, what seems to be the problem, dear? And have you tried Eyelops, yet?"

"I have, but they didn't seem to have anything I haven't tried," Charlie said.

"Shay!" Catrina hissed, "Shay, where'd you go?"

"Right here, Cat. Come and take a look at this one, isn't she pretty…?"

As Catrina fawned over the calico in the cage before them, Shay listened as Charlie and the shopkeeper discussed owl cures. She'd thought she had heard something about Romania, but that seemed strange: what could Charlie Weasley possibly be doing there? She, like the rest of Hogwarts, had always assumed that he would go on to be the next Quidditch star.

"I want this one, Shay, she's perfect!" Catrina said, voice soft with admiration. "Can I get this one, Shay?" "Hmm?"

She tuned out of her eavesdropping and back to her sister. "I want this one, Shay."

"Alright. How much is she, Cat, does it say?"

"That one? For you, dear?" The shopkeeper asked, having spotted a sale even while distracted, "She's one of my favorites, too. But I'll tell you what: seeing as I know your sister so well, she's just seven Galleons. How's that?"

"Still a bit pricey, if you ask me. The thing is downright scrawny," Shay said, noticing Charlie's smirk from over the witch's shoulder. She allowed a half-smile before returning to business. "I'd say four Galleons, at the most."

"Six Galleons and four sickles is my last offer," the other witch said. "And anyway, she's the kitten of two of my best; you'd basically be stealing her." Shay's eyes narrowed.

"Throw in half price Perseus' Best, and you have a deal."

The witch scowled, but moved behind the counter and plucked up a small silver canister emblazoned with a gorgon's head and placed it in front of her.

"Deal. I can't remember why I like you, Miss. Morse. You drive a hard bargain."

Shay grinned, placing a handful of coins down on the counter.

"Who else are you going to sell hoof shine and mane trimmers to?"

The shopkeeper let out something like a "harumph", passed the cat (and a small bag of treats) to Catrina, and slapped the hoof shine into Shay's hand.

"There, now. Go before you end up with half the store, would you?"

Shay laughed, gripping the silver canister tightly and heading out of the store (Charlie Weasley nodded, and she returned the gesture), an enamored Catrina in tow: the shopkeeper had given her a basket in which to carry the cat, and the basket was currently mewling unhappily.

"I wish you could put them on a leash like a puppy," Catrina said sadly. "She sound so unhappy in there."

"She just doesn't like not being able to wander around," Shay said. "She can hear the street but she can't see it, which she doesn't like."

"Exactly. Which is why I wish I had a leash."

"She'd get upset at that, too. Cats are independent little buggers."

Catrina giggled as the sisters headed down the street toward Madame Malkin's where their mother was already waiting.

"Is that why you had an owl at Hogwarts?" Shay shrugged.

"I like cats," she replied. "I just thought it would make a bit more sense to have an owl while I was away from home. We got a new one at the farm, did I tell you? His name's Oberon."

"Oberon? That's a funny name. Especially for a cat."

"Addie picked it," Shay explained. "But speaking of names, what's this one going to be called?" She tilted her chin in the direction of the basket. Catrina tilted her head to the side, studying the top of the basket as if the name would suddenly appear there.

"Sabia," she said finally. "I think she's a Sabia."

"Good choice," Shay said, smiling as they approached their mother in front of the robe shop. "Here, hand me Sabia while you get your robes fitted." Taking the cat's basket and a handful of bags from her mother, Shay stumbled across the street to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour where she ordered raspberry-and-chocolate ice cream and sat down to wait.


	4. Response Urgently Required

**It seemed as if no time at all passed between their day in Diagon Alley and that of Catrina's departure for Hogwarts, and the same could be said for the time that had passed since Shay had been on Platform 9 ¾. Nothing much had changed. Children still bid sometimes teary goodbyes to their parents, owls hooted, cats meowed, and the great scarlet steam engine that was The Hogwarts Express. Majestic as always, a great cloud of steam had already begun to shroud the train and the clocks were ticking down impatiently to departure.**

"…**Make sure you write as often as you can," Mrs. Morse was saying to her daughter, "Behave yourself, listen to your teachers, and remember that no matter which House you get Sorted into, we will still be proud of you." **

"**Emily," Mr. Morse said, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Emily, it's nearly time for her to go." **

"**Oh…oh. Oh, of course." Mrs. Morse's eyes were beginning to brim, threatening to spill over. **

"**Don't cry, Mum!" Catrina said, catching on quickly. "If you cry, I cry, and then I'll never get to Hogwarts!" **

**Emily Morse let out a burbling laugh and hugged her daughter close.**

"**I love you, darling," she said. "And I'll miss you very much, but I'll see you at Christmas." **

**Mr. Morse said his (not quite so lengthy) good-byes, hugging his daughter close and kissing the top of her head. Shay smiled and slung an arm around her sister's shoulders, pulling her trunk behind her. **

"**Let's get you settled in," Shay said. Catrina smiled up at her sister gratefully, and allowed herself to be led aboard the Hogwarts Express and settled into a compartment with two other first years already awkwardly assembled. **

"**Make friends," Shay whispered, shoving her sister's trunk in the luggage rack and smiling politely at the two other eleven year olds: a boy with red-blonde hair, and a girl with shiny black curls. She ruffled her sister's hair, grinned, and then headed back to the Platform. **

"**Oh," she said, turning back suddenly, "and Catrina? Have fun. Don't be **_**too **_**good." **

**Catrina grinned and shook her head, settling back in her seat. Satisfied that her sister was ready for the trip, Shay hopped back onto the Platform and re-joined her parents. The train whistled its last warning call and began to chug away, parents and siblings waving excitedly from the still platform, whether or nor their student could see them. It was all so familiar and comforting, yet so incredibly strange to wave goodbye from the platform. Almost as if it were against her nature; so many September mornings had been spent on this platform, waiting for the train to take her back to Hogwarts. And now, she had to walk the other way. **

**Shay and her parents walked back through the crowded station to the place designated by the Ministry as a safe Apparition zone; an abandoned alleyway that no sane Muggle would venture into. Three sharp pops later, and the family was back home. Emily immediately set to work making lunch while Shay collected her things from her room. With a wave of her wand, the items folded and packed themselves, the covers to her bed straightened, and any loose, leftover clutter was swept into orderliness once again. Everything was as it had been when she'd first arrived. Tugging the strap of her bag over her shoulder, she returned to the kitchen for one last meal with her parents before she returned to the farm. **

"**You're sure you're all set?" Emily asked anxiously as she placed a steaming bowl of soup in front of her daughter. "You have everything you came with?" **

"**Yes, mum," Shay said with a grin. "Don't worry, I'm all taken care of." **

"**I'm your mother," Emily said. "It's my job to worry." **

**Shay laughed, buttering a piece of crusty, fresh-baked bread. **

"**You have no worries while I'm at the farm, Mum. I'm pretty sure the thestrals would tear apart anyone who tried to hurt me." **

**Her mother frowned, sitting down at the table with her own soup and bread. **

"**I still wish you didn't have to see those things," Mrs. Morse said quietly. **

"**Mum," Shay said gently, reaching out to touch her mother's hand, "They're a blessing, really they are. Don't worry about me. It's not like I saw someone murdered. Death is natural, it didn't scar me." **

"**I know," Emily said, her voice near a whisper. "I know. But still, you were only ten. That's too young to understand death." **

**Shay shrugged, stirring a spoon through her soup and hoping that the conversation would soon be dropped. Thankfully her father, surprisingly sensitive to such things, brought up work and slipped the topic into another vein. With the topic directed away from Shay's ability to see ghostly, skeletal horses, the rest of lunch passed quickly; almost too quickly, in fact, as Shay soon found herself slinging the strap of her bag over her shoulder, kissing her parents good-bye, and Disapparating. **

**As much as she tended to complain, about work and early mornings and the smell of winged-horse manure, the farm was a sight to return to. It was beautiful, nestled amidst the brilliant emerald green of its surrounding hills, the house so white it could be made of cloud. And, of course, the sound of the winged horses calling to her from the paddock. Shay couldn't keep the smile from her face as she burst through the door, dumping her bag in the hallway to be taken up again later, and exchanging her neat tennis shoes for the mud-stained red boots. It was after noon - the others would be in the barns, cleaning out and brushing down, caring for wings and hooves and eyes and ears and all the rest. The house was silent around her, empty and waiting as she swung through the back door and through the cool grass to the Abraxan barn. **

**She had been right, of course: Aaron was inside, pitchfork in hand, wheel-barrow filling steadily as he cleaned out stalls. The smell of digested single-malt whiskey filled the barn. It nearly stung, like the day after drinking too much Firewhiskey without the headache. **

"**Welcome back," Aaron said, leaning on the handle of his pitchfork with a slow grin. "Had some excitement, did you?" **

**Shay groaned, pulling a shovel from the holder on the inside of the sliding door. **

"**I do not want to talk about it," she said. "I'm trying to pretend the worst thing that happened was that Wronski Feint. Need a hand?" **

"**Please," Aaron replied, fingers tightening as he turned back into the stall. "The others abandoned me." **

"**Where'd they go?"**

**Aaron shrugged. **

"**Addie Disapparated to Hogsmeade this morning, to meet with some breeder, I think. And you know how Rob is with these monsters. He's up in the Granian barn, instead. Likes them better, I guess."**

"**I think," Shay said, setting to work in the stall next door, "That he needs to get over it. They're great big babies, is all." **

"…**Great big baby elephants, you mean? Yeah, I know," Aaron replied. "Did your sister get off to Hogwarts alright?" **

"**Yep."**

"**She's in for an interesting first year." **

**Shay felt her forehead crease as she glanced up. **

"**What do you mean?" **

"**You haven't heard?"**

"**Obviously not, Aaron. What are you on about?" "The Tri-Wizard Tournament. It's all over the Ministry."**

"**Clearly," Shay said, struggling under the weight of a shovelful. "I haven't been to the Ministry in eons. What about the Tri-Wizard Tournament?" "They're bringing it back this year," Aaron replied. "Something about international wizarding cooperation or something. You know how Dumbledore is." **

"**But people…"**

"**Die? Yes, it's happened. Anyway, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons are in it, this year. They'll be arriving sometime in the fall. Hogwarts is suspending Quidditch for the year to allow for the Tasks. And there's an age limit now, too. You have to be of age to even enter. I'm really surprised you haven't heard of this, Shay. It's honestly everywhere." Shay shrugged.**

"**I guess I've just been in this little bubble so long that I've lost track of reality," Shay replied with a smirk. "Although the fact that I just saw the first Death Eater rally in at least a decade may have had something to do with it." **

"**Aaron! Is Shay back yet? Have you seen her?" **

"**Right here, Addie," Shay called, leaning out of the stall door and down toward the house: Addie was rushing up the path, hair loose and flying out around her head like a halo. **

"**Oh, thank God!" She said, crashing through the stall doors to envelope Shay in a bone-crushing hug; Shay could have sworn she'd heard her ribs snap. "We heard all about it in the Prophet. Death Eaters, can you imagine?" "Yes," Shay gasped. "Unfortunately, I can. I was there. Loosen up, Adds, I can't breathe." **

"**Oh! Sorry." **

**Shay took a gulp of blessed air as Addie took a step back. **

"**It wasn't really that big a deal," Shay said, finally. "It was scary, yeah, but…I mean, no one **_**died,**_** that I saw. The worst part was the Dark Mark. Everyone went into a panic after that. Understandably."**

"**I can imagine," Addie replied. "But you're okay, right? And Cat went to Hogwarts alright?" **

**Shay nodded, leaning her shovel against the wall. **

"**Safe and sound," she replied.**

"**Good. Look, something came for you in the post today. It's on the table, when you go back in."**

"**Does it look important?" **

"**Ministry seal."**

"**Great. Probably getting reassigned or something, just watch." **

"**No, you're not," Addie said with a snort. "They wouldn't take you out of here. Maybe Rob or I, but you and Aaron? You're miracle workers. No way they'd get rid of you." **

**Shay shrugged, pulling the shovel back into action. **

"**I have to say, Addie, I hope you're right. I don't **_**want **_**to leave." **

"**We don't want you to either, love," Addie said. "Believe me. These monsters will be less manageable than they already are, if you have to leave. And I think those thestrals would go off their meat." **

**Shay laughed, ducking her head. **

"**I'll finish up here," she said, "And then go check it out. You haven't opened it and resealed it already have you, Addie?" **

**Addie's fair skin turned a shade of melon-pink that Shay had only seen once or twice before. **

"**That only happened once!" She defended. "And could you blame me?" "Yes, in fact," Shay replied, waving her wand at the full wheel-barrow and sending it on its way to the manure pile far in the back. Another wave sent new bedding into the stall in perfect amounts for heavy Abraxan hooves. **

"**Alright," Shay said, opening the stall door to the fresh breeze and stepping into the barn's wide aisle. "Let's go seer what the Ministry has sent for me, shall we?" **

**Addie brightened visibly, the change nearly immediate. If curiosity could truly kill the cat, Addie would be in enough trouble to wrack the world three times over. The two girls strode down the lawn to the house, kicking off their boots in the hallway and heaing into the kitchen. Addie jumped up onto the kitchen counter, crossing her legs at the ankles and watching Shay intently as the other girl approached the table. Sure enough, there on the rough wood sat a thick, ivory envelope with a Ministry seal stamped in red wax. **

_**Miss. Saoirse A. Morse, **_

_**Department for the Research and Care of Magical Creatures, **_

_**Icarus Farm,**_

_**Wales**_

_**Important: Response Urgently Required**_

**The writing was spindly and unfamiliar, slanting uncomfortably to the right. Shay slid her thumb beneath the red wax seal, breaking the envelope open with a quick snap and extracting thick, creamy sheets of paper. **

_**Miss. Morse, **_**the letter began, **_**We would like to begin by thanking you for your dedicated service to the Ministry of Magic's Winged Horse research and breeding program. Through your talent and diligence, as well as that of your teammates, we at the Ministry have gained invaluable information about these beautiful and mysterious creatures. Due to your recent success with the capturing and taming of Abraxan horses, we would like to extend a new opportunity for your consideration. **_

_**Though entirely different creatures in many ways, winged horses and dragons have much in common. We would like to follow up on these similarities, and delve into the opportunities for training which these may provide. As such, we would like to invite you to the Romanian dragon reserve, where you will work closely with our talented dragon research staff to explore new techniques with these magnificent creatures. The Ministry has recently become quite interested in more humane methods of sedation and training. The similarities in mind structure of dragons and winged horses may well be instrumental in influencing these changes. **_

_**Should you wish to accept our invitation, please send an owl back with your response. If you reply in the affirmative, your transfer will be effective immediately upon your receipt of our next owl. You will be required to Apparate just off-base of the Romanian dragon reserve, where you will be met by a Ministry employee and shown the base. **_

_**We would like to inform you that, along with this transfer, you would be given the opportunity to be involved in the Tri-Wizard Tournament to be held at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as well as receiving a pay raise to compensate for the dangers involved in such a post. The opportunities extended to you through this program will be immense; we truly hope that you will choose to join us on what is sure to be one of the most interesting initiatives this branch of the Ministry has undergone in many years. We look forward to your response.**_

"**They want me to go to Romania," Shay said, whispering into the dead silence. "To study dragons." **

"**Dragons?" Addie said incredulously. "Shay, you have to be joking." **

**Shay shook her head numbly and handed the parchment over to her friend. **

"**See for yourself," she said, dropping into the nearest chair, its legs creaking in protest. **

"**Shay," Addie breathed, scanning the writing. "Shay, what are you going to do? Will you take it?" **

**Shay shook her head, staring into the grain of the table as if it might display the answers. **

"**I don't know. But this is big, Addie. They singled me out for this entirely. I feel like…I feel like I should. But I don't **_**want**_** to, and I don't know what to do." **

**To her horror, tears began to prickle at the back of Shay's throat. It had been so long since she had last cried. The feeling was alien and uncomfortable. She tried to swallow down the lump in her throat like a bitter pill, but couldn't. **

"**Oh, Shay," Addie murmured, settling into the chair next to her friend and rubbing her shoulders comfortingly. "It's nothing to cry about, silly. It's okay. Take a little while to think about it. They don't need a response **_**right now**_**. Take the rest of the day to think it through. You know we'll back you up, no matter what." **

**Shay nodded, trying to smile through the slow but steady flow of tears. **

"_**Dragons," **_**she murmured, watching as Addie got to her feet to make tea. "Addie, how the hell am I supposed to manage dragons? The Abraxans are enough of a handful, as it is." **

**Addie shrugged, setting the water to begin boiling. **

"**They said something about their having similar minds," she replied. "They must have some kind of research to back it up. And you are one of the best trainers we have, besides Aaron. Rob and I have nothing on the two of you."**

"**So why didn't they ask Aaron?" Shay asked, sliding the envelope back and forth between her fingers and the table. "He's stronger than I am." **

"**Can I be totally honest with you?" Addie asked, setting two mugs on the table before turning to Shay. "I mean, really honest?" **

"**Of course," Shay responded. "When have I ever said "no" to that?" **

"**There's probably some kind of quota that they have to fill," Addie replied. "I mean, think about it. Between wizards and witches, its mostly men that apply for dragon research. Women go for the unicorns and the winged horses, more often than not. So when it came down between you and Aaron, they probably looked at the pool of people they already had and decided on you because you were a girl." **

"**It comes down to that?" **

"**Sometimes," Addie responded, passing a full mug of tea across the table. Shay folded her fingers around it, letting the warmth seep around her fingers. "They also just know talent when they see it." **

**Shaking her head, Shay raised the mug to her eye level, staring directly at the cup as if she could see through it. **

"**I think…I have to take it," she said finally. "I really think I do. Does that make me a bad person?" **

"**Why would it?" **

"**Because it's not necessarily want I want. It's what I think I need. Does that make sense?" **

**Addie shook her head, but laughed. **

"**No," she said. "Not really. But what does? And, somehow, I know what you mean. You've been here pretty much since you left Hogwarts. Maybe it's time for a change." **

"**Maybe." **

**The two girls sipped their tea, listening to the chirping of birds and faraway nickers of the Granians being let out into their paddock. **

"**I think you should follow your instincts," Addie said, tracing patterns along the grain with her fingers. "But we'll miss you." **

**There were tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes, her voice strangled and a good pitch higher than usual. **

"**I'll miss you, too," Shay said, setting her mug down rather roughly and standing to embrace her friend. "But please don't cry, because then I will." **

**Addie chuckled, returning the hug whole-heartedly and said:**

"**Well, love, you have an owl to send." **


	5. No Vacancies

**((Two chapters in one day...this must be some kind of record with me. Truth? I actually forgot that I had chapter five written, but I figured I might as well upload it, considering six and seven are both on their way to completion, as well. You'll be seeing those, soon.**

**A BIG thank you to everyone who favorited or is following this story! Words cannot describe how much I appreciate that. I would, however, love to hear more from you. Let me know what you think! **

**Enjoy the chapter!**

**P.S: Time zones = haha, fail. I don't actually know the difference (if there is a difference?) and to be honest, with school and work and all else, I didn't have time to find out. So we're just pretending there is none.)) **

* * *

_Dear Miss. Morse,_ the second Ministry letter began, _we are delighted to hear of acquiescence to this new post. We truly believe that you shall aid our effort in improving the techniques of dragon training. Should any problems arise you may, of course, return to Icarus Farm and your old post. As we said in our last missive, you should be prepared to leave immediately. An owl has already been sent to Romania. We have received your luggage, and it will be waiting for you upon your arrival. Please Disapparate immediately. _

_Thank you. _

The good-byes had been enacted the night of the first letter, her bags had been packed. There was nothing left to do. She had made her last visit to each barn, had said good-bye to her favorites and spent a good deal of time amidst her thestrals. When the owl tapped on her window at quarter after one in the morning, there had been nothing to delay her. She had thrown on a coat, took one last, longing look around her bedroom, spun on her heel, and Disapparated into the light of early morning.

When the vaguely unpleasant sensation of Apparition had dissolved, leaving her standing and only slightly disoriented, Shay was left to gaze around in bewilderment. She was nowhere. Nowhere recognizable as a town or even a small village. Instead, a thick bunch of thistle-like bushes crowded to her left while a forest stretched away in all directions. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled his long, good-night song.

"_Where am I?_" Shay whispered, peering blindly into the dark.

"Off your target, that's for sure."

Shay jumped and whirled around sharply with her wand drawn to face…Charlie Weasley. Catching her breath, Shay lowered her wand.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

A single eyebrow rose in response.

"Are you Shay Morse?"

"…Yes"

"Then I'm here to take you back to base. Unless you'd prefer that I leave you here…?"

Oh. Shay felt her face flush, felt the blush creep around to the back of her neck.

"Thank you," she said stiffly, her embarrassment making her shy. Charlie shrugged.

"C'mon, then. This way."

He set off on an unmarked path through the forest, hands in his pockets. Feeling as if they hadn't had the best of introductions, Shay stumbled along as best she could without a word. Better not to exacerbate the situation, she decided, by saying anything. She was too tired and nervous and unsure of her decision to trust anything she might say, in that moment. Instead, she watched Charlie walking from the corner of her eye.

He looked much the same as he had the day she'd seen him in Diagon Alley. Although, considering the short stretch of time that had been, it was really no surprise. He wasn't built like Fred and George, the tricksters. He wasn't tall and gangly, and had really never been through the my-limbs-are-too-long phase that had made his brothers seem like straggling young colts. He was shorter, stockier, built more along the side of strength than height with skin scarred by burns, teeth, and claws.

"How long are you here for?" he asked suddenly. Shay shrugged, trooping along just behind him as if she were playing follow-the-leader.

"They didn't tell me, really," she said quietly, pulling her coat closer around her shoulders. The night was dark, still, and just cold enough to make her bones stiff and shaky.

"Why?"

Shay glanced up at him with furrowed brows.

"I don't have a clue."

"No, why are you here?"

The irritation in his voice had become more than a note, rapidly rising with each question. Why she warranted this treatment, Shay couldn't guess.

"They think I can help, I suppose," Shay replied.

"We don't need your help," he said, voice low and deceptively steady. "We're managing just fine on our own."

"With stunning spells and chains, I'm sure," Shay said finally, snapping. "And by the looks of your scars, I'd say that's not working too well."

They traveled on in silence, the breeze ruffling the tops of the trees. The branches clicked together like fingernails and old, dry grass crunched beneath their feet. After what seemed like days of walking, firelight flickered against the darkness of the forest, and the unmistakable sound of large animals simply living shifted to her ears.

"Here we are," Charlie said as they approached the source of the light and noise. "Home sweet home."

The base was no Quidditch World Cup; it was a permanent establishment, so tents had long ago been abandoned for sturdier methods: huts had been erected, big enough to house up to three people comfortably. Probably under enchantments to protect against fire, Shay supposed, though they looked as if they were made of wood. Further off were the larger buildings Shay supposed had to be the dragon enclosures.

"There are ten cabins," Charlie said, drawing her attention back to the cluster of smaller buildings. "Four for women, six for men. There is currently an empty female cabin, which you may take, unless you choose to share with one of the others. Dragons are kept in those enclosures back there. They're currently sedated, so you won't see them 'til morning. Laundry is done on Wednesdays at the crack of dawn, so if you want clean clothes you'll get them to the annex at the back of The Hall. Got it?"

Shay nodded, mute, blood still uncomfortably close to boiling. Had he always been this way? She remembered a gentleman from Hogwarts…or as close as a teenage boy could get to one.

"It's too dark to show you much tonight," Charlie continued wearily, running a hand absently through his red hair. "So we'll have to continue in the morning. Here, I'll get you settled in somewhere."

He set off with long strides across the grass, stopping in front of one of the huts. He knocked quickly on the door and it was opened by a wiry middle-aged woman with steely eyes and dark hair pulled back in a severe plait.

"Yes?"

"Anna, this is Shay," Charlie said, waving a hand abstractly toward the newcomer. "She's the winged horse trainer they brought in. Needs a place to stay tonight, are you at capacity?"

Anna shook her head, folding her leanly muscled arms over her stomach.

"Isn't there a vacant cabin?" Her voice was rough, like Muggles who had smoked too many cigarettes in their lifetimes. Charlie nodded.

"Can't get in, tonight," he replied. "Evan's asleep, and you know how he is if you wake him. Can't get the keys until tomorrow."

Anna nodded, scrutinizing Shay as she stood just behind Charlie, out of reach of the doorway.

"Itty little thing, isn't she?"

Charlie turned, suddenly focusing all of his attention on Shay, who felt it acutely. Never one to be the center of attention, the feeling of four scrutinizing, calculating eyes felt like nine hundred. Charlie simply shrugged, then turned back to Anna.

"Smaller than most, maybe. See how long she lasts," Charlie replied with a grin, the hint of a spark in his eye the only thing that hinted at even the shadow of a joke. "Ministry seems to like her. And those Abraz-things…"

"Abraxans," Shay corrected quickly. Charlie held his hands up in mocking surrender.

"Those Abraxan things are pretty damn big, themselves."

"Maybe she just got lucky with those," Anna said, eyes still on Shay. "They're close enough to Muggle horses, after all."

If her blood had not been boiling before, it had certainly started that way by now. At least she knew the slightest bit about dragons. They, apparently, knew nothing of winged horses.

"Point is, she needs a place to stay for the night," Charlie said. "You have an extra bed, yeah?"

Anna nodded. "Good. She'll stay here for the night, be out by tomorrow. Can you live with that?"

"For the moment," Anna replied. "Just stay quiet, would you? And don't get too comfortable. No unpacking."

"Couldn't even if she wanted to," Charlie said before she could respond. "Her luggage is with Evan, at the moment. You'll get that back in the morning, by the way," he added to Shay. "You'll just have to make do for the night. Ta."

With this, he jumped from the doorstep, swaggering off to his own cabin.

"Come on," Anna said from the doorway, "Before you let absolutely all of the cold in." Shay scurried through the door and into the cozy interior of the cabin. The furniture was an eclectic mixture of antiques and more modern pieces, shoved into the small rooms haphazardly. The faint sound of snoring issue from a back room.

"That's Claire," Anna said in a hoarse whisper, "You'll meet her in the morning." She led Shay down a short hallway and thrust a door open on a small room containing a bed, desk, dresser, and mirror. The bed was thankfully dressed, pillow and blankets ready. "You'll be staying here," Anna said. "'Night." She left, disappearing around a bend in the corridor. Moments later, a door shut somewhere in the cabin.

"Good night," Shay muttered, dropping heavily onto the bed and thinking _Well, this is off to an auspicious start_. She fell backward, head on the pillow, and folded her hands over her ribcage, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep would be almost impossible tonight, she knew. Her mind was already racing. Rolling over onto her side, she gazed through the small, floral-curtained windows into the night sky and hoped that the dragon researchers were only this cranky at night.

Morning came sooner than she would have hoped, even before the sun had risen as her cabin-mates began to move. The sounds of their normal morning routine had woken her as efficiently as an alarm: plates, cups, and silverware clashed in the kitchen. Shay blinked the sleep from her eyes, rubbed her knuckles wearily across them, and slid to the floor. Day one, and it was time to begin. No matter what awaited her.

The cacophony in the kitchen was caused by a plump young witch with glossy black ringlets and olive skin, cooking entirely without magic. She turned and smiled when she heard Shay in the doorway.

"Good morning!" She said cheerfully: her eyes were an odd shape of amber with pupils like a cat's. "You're the new girl?"

Shay nodded mutely, squinting into the brightly-lit kitchen. "What's your name, love?"

"Shay Morse."

"Shay, hmm? That short for something, or are your parents just creative?"

Shay smiled.

"It's Saoirse, really, but it's kind of clumsy and awkward to use. Everyone just calls me Shay."

"Saoirse." The young witch who must be the snoring Claire rolled the name around on her tongue. "It's not clumsy, it's beautiful. Would you mind terribly if I used it?"

"Not at all, if you don't mind being the only one who does," Shay responded with a grin. The girl reminded her of Addie, and was the first friendly person she'd met.

"Well, I've always been a bit different," she replied. "I'm Claire, by the way. Please, sit down. Eggs and bacon?"

"Oh, yes please."

Claire seemed to brighten visibly.

"Ah, a girl who eats," she said. "Finally. Tea or coffee?"

"Coffee, please," Shay said. "With milk, if you have any."

"Of course," Claire replied, bustling around happily. Shay rose to help, but was waved away near-violently.

"No no, you sit," Claire said. "I've got all of this. You just sit down and relax."

Shay sank back doubtfully and glanced around the kitchen. Pewter pots and pans hung from the ceiling, the windows were curtained in cheery yellow, and there were lights _everywhere_. The whole room was full with the smell of coffee brewing and bacon spitting grease in a pan on the stove.

"Why don't you use magic, if you don't mind my asking?"

Claire shrugged.

"Cooking is just different," she said. "Special. The best food just has to be made by hand, you know?"

Shay didn't, but nodded anyway. Claire poured milk and coffee into a mug and handed it over along with a piece of buttered toast on a plate.

"The rest will be along in a moment," she said. "How are you feeling on your first day?"

Shay shrugged, running a finger along the rim of the mug.

"Like I could use a little more sleep," she replied. "But other than that, I guess I'm alright."

"Ever been around dragons before?"

Shay shrugged.

"Most of what I know about them is theory," she responded. "Books and studying, that kind of thing. I've never actually been up close and personal with one."

"You're in for an adventure with our beasties, then," Claire said. "They've all got enough personality to fill the oceans twice over. I take it you've met Charlie?"

"He seemed…kind of surly, but yes."

"Oh, he's not generally. He's really very sweet. And don't tell him this, but lots of the girls on the base rather fancy him. He's good with the beasts, kind to 'em, you know?"

Claire, it seemed, was the kind of person who assumed people held encyclopedic volumes of knowledge in their heads. Shay played along, nodded her head for what seemed the thousandth time, and took a deep sip from her coffee to occupy herself.

"I imagine you're getting the full tour today, then, Saoirse?"

"I believe that's the plan, yes. And then I'll be moving in to whatever empty cabin I'll…"

"Empty cabin? Why can't you just stay here?"

Claire paused a moment to ladle portions of scrambled egg onto three plates.

"I…don't think I'm wanted,"

"Not wanted? Nonsense! The more the merrier, I say. Who told you that you weren't welcome? It wasn't Anna, was it?" Claire didn't wait for a response before continuing. "Don't mind her, she's just cranky all of the time because she wasn't made leader of this base, and she thinks she should be. No. You can stay here, of course you can. I'll talk to Evan and get you your own key straight away. Anna will come around, she always does. You _were _comfortable in that spare room, weren't you?"

Overcome by this flood of speech, Shay gazed absently at the other girl, then slowly nodded. Again.

"Good. Oh!"

The door had swung open after two short knocks to reveal none other than Charlie Weasley himself, his dark hair messier than usual. There was a new, shiny burn on his right forearm which Claire noticed immediately. She clucked her tongue in disapproval, ushering Charlie to a seat and pushing a plate of breakfast toward him.

"You're going to get killed one of these days, the way you are with those things," she said disapprovingly. Charlie snorted, shook his head, and dug his teeth into a piece of toast so heartily buttered that some slid down the grain of it.

"It's my job, Claire."

"I know _that_, you great buffoon. By the way, don't you bother going to Evan about putting this girl on her own in an empty cabin, she's more than welcome to stay here."

"You sure Anna will be alright?"

"She can get over herself," Claire said, plunking her own plate down. "Orange juice, anyone?"

"Please," Charlie said. Shay waved the offer away with her hand, chewing on a bit of egg. "Have you said this to Anna, yet?"

"She's still asleep. You know her, she never eats in the mornings."

Beginning to feel more and more like a fly on the wall, Shay cleared her throat briefly, earning just-as-brief glances from the other two.

"What do you say, Morse? Willing to stay here?"

"I don't see why not."

Charlie looked at her: his glance was not what she had been expecting. It was level, unsmiling but not unkind, calculating without the edge of manipulation that would have given it menace. She didn't know what to make of it, but held his gaze, anyway: if there was one thing she had learned from years upon years spent with animals, it was the value of eye contact. Winged horses did it, to convince each other of dominance. Although they paired it with nips and kicks, which Shay certainly _hoped_ wouldn't be necessary, here. If she dropped Charlie's gaze, she was submissive. If she held it too long, she was a threat. After what could only have been a few seconds, she angled her gaze away from his eyes to the center of his forehead, then up and away to the window. Finally averted, she returned to breakfast.

The silence that fell amidst the clinking of silverware against plates was somewhere between tentatively friendly and awkward, lingering longer than it was probably meant to. Finally, when all three plates were cleared, glasses and mugs drained of their contents, Claire waved her wand (the first Shay had seen of it) and cleared the dishes away.

"Alright," Charlie said, "let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

"Alright," Shay echoed, pulling herself to her feet, dreading the fact that she would have to spend the next who-knew-how-long alone with Charlie Weasley who, apparently, despised her. Or thought she was a threat in some way, which had the possibility to be worse than hatred.

"First thing, we'll talk to Evan about getting your things sent to the spare room in there," Charlie said. "And see about getting you a key. Then we'll head up to the dragon dens and get started."

The cabin they were headed toward was a bit more ramshackle than the others, one window thrown half-open to the morning breeze. The door listed slightly to the left on its hinges, and the steps were swept over by leaves. Charlie cleared his throat and stepped up to the door, knocked thrice, sharply, and then stepped back. A few moments passed without any movement from within.

"Maybe you should…"

Charlie raised a hand, cutting Shay off mid-sentence.

"He's coming," Charlie said. "Trust me."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the door swung open, revealing the largest entirely human male Shay had ever seen. He was close to Hagrid in height with bright red hair and a red beard like a wood-cutter's, scraggly red eyebrows etching lines above flinty grey eyes.

"Yes?" He rumbled. The man burped, and his breath smelled like stale alcohol. Shay winced, shying away, slinking around behind Charlie as if he would shield her.

"You're in for a nasty surprise if he scares you," Charlie said. "Dragons are ten times worse."

Expecting the man to take offense, Shay peered at him warily around Charlie's side. He didn't react but to grin crookedly and scratch the back of his neck.

"Dragons aren't people," Shay said quietly. Charlie seemed to understand (or so the look in his eyes would have her believe) and turned back around to face the man in the doorway.

"Evan, this is our newcomer, the Pegasus girl. Shay Morse. Be nice, will you?"

"Do what I can," the man replied, squinting into the bright light to a space just above Shay's right shoulder.

"Shay, this is Evan. Keeper of the Keys, and right useless at just about anything else. While you're here, he can get you anything you need concerning the cabins. Right now, Ev, we need the key for Number 4, and her luggage sent there as well."

"Right" Evan nodded and swung back into the darkness of the cabin, returning in moments with a brass key, a number "4" engraved on its head.

"Here y'are," he said. "Don't lose it, only got one more."

Charlie took the key and passed it behind him to Shay, who took the slender brass thing in her hands, turning it between her fingers and slipping it into an empty pocket.

"Thanks, Ev. Sure she won't. See you around, and don't go too heavy on that Firewhiskey, we clear?"

"Sure thing, boss."

The door closed, separating Charlie and Shay from Evan.

"He's back at it as we speak," Charlie said, voice rough. "Always is. He's a good man, though. Just a bit too fond of drink. Good at his job, and that's all that _really _matters."

Charlie continued walking, his strides long and purposeful. Shay had to take two just to keep up until she was all but trotting alongside him.

"We keep the "camp" at a good distance from the dens," he said finally. "Just to eliminate the slightest chance of danger that could arise. They're all fireproof, of course. As are the dens. There could be any number of dragons here at any given time, some just stopping through on their way to a different reserve. We get lots of the European breeds, not so many of the Asian ones. Lots of Welsh Greens and Hungarian Horntails, a couple of Chinese Fireballs. Mostly your more common varieties, though. I trust you know what those are."

"I did my homework," Shay replied dryly.

"You were a Ravenclaw, weren't you?"

Shay glanced up quickly, then nodded.

"Yeah, I was. Through and through." "I think I remember you," he said. "Oliver Wood's cousin, right? You came to every game."

Hearing his voice without the bite of sarcasm or the tilt of information was a shock. This was pure, friendly conversation and it was strange to hear it from his voice.

"You remember that?" Charlie shrugged.

"Vaguely. I remember Oliver pointed you out once, and then I caught sight of you a couple of times after that. You didn't play ever, you just watched."

"I'm a bad flyer," Shay admitted. "When it comes to broomsticks, anyway."

"You fly with your horses?"

Shay nodded.

"All the time," she said quietly. "There's no feeling better in this world."

This sentiment she knew Charlie would understand: it was so close to the way he had to feel flying on a broomstick. But nothing could beat the lift and glide of strong, feathered wings. Nothing could beat the surge of energy as rider's heart kept time with the horse's. Nothing could beat the perfect synchronous breath as they circled…

"Here we are," Charlie said, drawing her out of her thoughts and back to Romania. They stood before two large, slanting roofs which seemed to have only an inch of wall space below them. "The dens are mostly underground," Charlie said. "It's cooler. Kind of like Gringotts. C'mon, you can get to know our friendly creatures." Charlie smirked, tapping twice on the wall. He murmured something unintelligible and the wall appeared to dissolve, melting in on itself to allow them entry. Stretching out before them was a magic-perfect circle of a tunnel, the Earth smoothed as hard and neat as marble. Torches were posted into the wall, casting spears of light on the path before them: at the end of the tunnel all light seemed to vanish, whirling away into the dark.

"Where…"

"Stairs," Charlie said with a grin. "Sort of. Freaked me out the first day, too. Think of Hogwarts, only worse."

Shay smiled hesitantly.

"Worse?"

"You'll see."

They started off down the tunnel, heading closer to the end where the light swirled away.

"No light at the end of this tunnel, hmm?" Shay murmured. Charlie chuckled.

"Way to touch upon the most cliché joke around this place," he said. "Watch your step."

They had walked the length of the tunnel, standing in a kind of perpetual dim that edged the "stairs" as Charlie had claimed. He bounded past her, jumping up on something, and it was as if he had disappeared. His hand appeared through the darkness, dim and nearly glowing.

"Step up," he said, the fingers on his hand waving her forward. "Take my hand."

She did as she was told, slipping her hand into his. Their hands touched for only a moment as he helped to lift her onto the first "stair", but it was enough for her to feel the buildup of burn scars and calluses that marked his palm and fingers. "Take hold of the rail," he said. "It'll start in a second."


	6. Working with Charlie?

**((Hey there! Sorry for the huge delay - I had laptop malfunctions, end of school and graduation craziness. Otherwise known as: life took over. This chapter is almost painfully short, but once I get back in the swing of things with these guys we should be right back on track. Enjoy!))**

* * *

Shay reached out the hand furthest from Charlie, her fingers closing against something cool, smooth, and unmoving. She could only hope it was the railing. The sound of wand-on-metal preceded a sudden, terrifying plunge. Shay shrieked, fingers nearly numbing on the rail. Just as suddenly as it had started the plunging stopped. Shay's body felt for a moment as if it were free-falling before being caught (rather roughly) by the stair below her feet.

"See what I mean?" Charlie said. Even in the total darkness they had fallen into, Shay could tell he was amused.

"At least my foot isn't stuck," she said, voice shaking.

"There is that. _Alohamora._"

Charlie's wand produced a narrow sliver of blue light. Shay muttered the spell as well, adding her wand's brightness to the surrounding gloom. She found herself in a cavern large enough to hold Hogwarts, or so she would assume; she felt dwarfed inside it, looking up at gleaming facets in the wall. What these were, she couldn't tell, not quite. Something flickered inside of them, orange and red and yellow, like flame. She could only assume that there were more tunnels leading away.

"You'll want to stay pretty close," Charlie said. "This place can be tricky if you don't know it well."

His shoulder brushed hers as they walked, and Shay doubted she could stay any closer if she actively tried. Her first instinct was to flinch away from the contact, to hide from it. She wasn't used to it, and it made her wary.

"These are the dens," Charlie said, nodding to a young man with a slashing scar across his forehead. "And these are some of our keepers. You'll meet them all, eventually, I'm sure. But when they're in here, they turn into termites. Not much use to talk to. Here, this way."

Charlie had ducked closer to the walls of the cavern. After the briefest interlude of doubt, Shay followed suit: they were approaching the mouth of another cavern where flames flickered, spitting their tongues along the rim of the cavern mouth.

"Hungarian Horntail," Charlie explained as they approached. "You can go ahead and look in, the entrances are magically protected. They _can _break it. Dragon magic is damn powerful. But it takes a lot of effort, so mostly they don't want to."

"Isn't that rather…dangerous?"

"The whole thing is, really," Charlie replied with a smirk. "Should've done your homework on that one, right Ravenclaw?"

Shay frowned and jerked away, forcing herself to approach the magically-protected cavern entrance.

The dragon inside was huge and strangely beautiful, all dark scales and cat-like eyes, claws like black scimitars. The eyes stared out at her, full and knowing. As if, in that glance, the dragon had read and dismissed everything that Shay was made of. They seemed to calculate her worth: as a human, as a threat, perhaps as a meal. And then, they dismissed her again. Totally uninterested in everything that stood in that cavern entrance, the dragon turned away, ducked its head down and rested them on two crossed fore-legs. Glinting beneath the belly and claws of the beast were mounds of shimmering silver and gold: goblets, Galleons, sickles, jewelry.

"We give them a hoard to take care of," Charlie said from directly behind. Shay turned to look at him, but his eyes were on the dragon. "It keeps them pretty happy, rather sedate. Keeps us from having to worry about them. As long as they have something to guard, they're happy."

"Eggs and treasure?"

"Precisely. It's like giving a person a child and a castle to care for. If they're right in the head, they'll go to no end to keep those things safe. Sacred, you know?"

"Yes," Shay said, gazing in at the dragon with something like new sight (the eyes were more cautious than she'd realized, the claws more poised to strike). "Yes, I do know."

They stood in silence for long moments before Charlie eased them onward.  
"The Hungarian Horntail is arguably our most dangerous breed," Charlie said. "Take them out of their dens and they're absolutely impossible. We've lost more people to Horntails than any other dragon."

"Why do you keep them, if they're such a risk to handle?"

"Their blood is most potent," Charlie said flatly. "Highest in demand. And their heartstrings are prized in wand making."

"More so than any of the others?"

"Mostly, yes. They're fiercely protective, Horntails. People think that makes for a stout heart, more potent magic."

"Does it?"

"Debatable."

They walked past Welsh Greens and Chinese Fireballs, stopping briefly to peer in at each one, Charlie explaining their details in a quiet, informational voice. Shay listened, absorbing the information in true Ravenclaw form, holding onto the fact that Welsh Green scales, ground to dust, were most in demand for potions while the hide of Chinese Fireballs was highly sought for heat and fire-proof gloves. At the same time, she was absorbing the facts about himself that Charlie let slip, moment by moment: his protectiveness toward his family, the idea of certain aspects holding a sacred quality, a love and devotion to his work. It all seemed to make sense, to click with what she remembered from Hogwarts. Yet there were still gaps, or so it seemed: his temper was shorter than she remembered of the boy who would stop to help First Years in the halls. And she didn't remember the authoritative tone of voice he took on when speaking to those beneath him in the ranks. Though perhaps these gaps would have been filled if she had known him more closely in school. Maybe this was normal, and what she had seen was more of a façade. Or perhaps it was the other way around.

Finally, they reached the end of the cavern.

"So," Charlie said, "have I scared you away yet?"

"Not a chance."

The reply came more quickly than even Shay had anticipated but she played into it, grinning. "It'll take more than that to get rid of me."

Charlie looked at her silently.

"We'll see," was all he said, his voice near-toneless. Shay realized, suddenly, that it was going to take more effort than she'd originally thought, to work well with Charlie Weasley.


	7. Meet Your Match

"Charlie! Who's the newbie?"

"Hey, new girl!"

It was like all of the bad Muggle high school movies, Shay though, suddenly remembering a summer spent with her half-blood friend where televisions were not unheard of. Once she had gotten over the strangeness of the things, it had been a pleasant enough experience.

"Don't be too worried," Charlie said as he nodded toward the food line. "They're just…undersocialized."

Behind a long counter just ahead of them, platters kept refilling as their contents were picked and chosen for individual plates.

"There's usually a pretty good variety," Charlie said, passing Shay a plate. He seemed distracted, eyes scanning the tables as he spoke. His voice was still flat with the giving of information. "We have a really wide variety of cultural diet restrictions, vegetarians, you name it. So there's always something for everyone."

He moved along the counter, selecting a large chicken drumstick, potatoes, and vegetables. Shay followed behind, selecting mixed vegetables, a small dinner roll, and a cut of chicken.

"By undersocialized, you mean…"

"They don't see new people often enough. We're kind of enclosed, in case you couldn't tell."

"No need to be rude," Shay said softly. It was her first admonition of him, however slight, and it felt strange. Charlie seemed to think the same – he glanced at her, seemed unsure of what to say.

"You're right," he admitted finally. "Sorry."

The silence that came afterward was uncomfortable. They joined a table – Shay was glad to see that Claire was a member of the group there, along with a group of men and one other woman.

"Shay, this is Derek Hunt, Clifford Morrison, Henry Reed, and Felicity Richardson. Everyone, this is Shay More."

"Oh, winged horse girl!" the first man, Derek, said. He had a ropy scar running across his face. It began at the left side of his forehead, cut across his nose, and down to the left side of his chin. He seemed to notice her glance. "Nearly got my face torn off by a crazy Welsh Green, coupla-years back." He explained.

Clifford Morrison and Henry Reed were both taller than Charlie and Derek, but while Clifford's muscles were bulky and more pronounced, Henry had more of a lithe strength to him. If translated to animals, Clifford would be a bear, Henry a panther.

"I take it you haven't really met any of our lovely beasts, yet?" Claire asked.

"Not yet," Shay replied. "Just glimpsed, really."

"I thought we should ease her into the first day," Charlie said. "Let her get used to them, first."

"I did kind of meet the Horntail, though," Shay put in. "And kind of felt like I was staring death in the eye."

"You've got that right," Clifford grunted. "That thing is death. Death personified."

"Oh, stop being dramatic," Claire chided. "It's not a Grim."

"Might as well be," Henry put in. He had an accent that Shay couldn't immediately place, though she knew it to be some version of American. "Don't get on the wrong side of it, that's all I'm saying. Actually, keeping away from it entirely might be a better option."

"Oh, stop," Claire said. "You boys are just going to scare the poor thing off."

Poor thing?

"Don't worry about me," Shay said with a smile. "It'll take far more than that. Though speaking of which, why do people think I'm going to run screaming?"

Claire glanced at her, then at Charlie and the others.

"No offense, love," Clifford said with a smirk, "but you're kind of little."

"Compared to you lot, maybe," Shay said with a huff. "But you make me sound like a bloody _hobbit._"

Charlie snorted and Shay, surprised, glanced up at him with a tentative smile.

"A what, now?" asked Henry.

"A hobbit," Charlie said, speaking to Henry but still looking at Shay. "From a story Muggles like about a magical world. Almost like a fairytale. Hobbits are little people with furry feet."

Clifford looked at Shay oddly. She laughed.

"I promise, I bear no similarity in that regard. Or any other, really."

""It's really because you look kind of – don't kill me – delicate. Whether or not you actually are doesn't matter," Claire said, bringing the conversation back to where it had begun. "You look like a china doll."

"Thank you?"

Claire giggled, lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Just being honest," she said.

After lunch, the group of five headed back to the dragon dens. Claire had taken Shay's arm, and was happily chattering about the dragons.

"We'll get you right into the swing of things, now," she said. "Just wait. We've got an old, OLD Welsh Green that you can start off with. He's mostly non-dangerous, because he has no teeth, but he's still clever so it's not an insult or anything…"

Shay grinned, listening to her new friend talk. Claire's voice was pretty, melodic in a way. If Shay had been any good at music, she probably could have translated the rise and fall of it to musical notes.

"Don't forget that he doesn't need teeth to spit venom," Henry said with a smirk.

"Venom?" Shay asked.

"They don't spit venom," Charlie said, rolling his eyes. His shoulders had relaxed, Shay noticed, since they had fallen in with this group – he was no longer carrying them by his ears. "They secrete it beneath their tongues and they kind of…drip it on you, if they can."

"…So they drool venom?" Shay asked, trying not to giggle.

"Essentially, yes,"

The Welsh Green in question was as old as the hills, if not older. His scales were even rimmed with silver, a paler shade of green than they would have been on a younger specimen. And his eyes were slightly clouded, though they gave the impression that they could still see just fine.  
Well enough to spot you and kill you, anyway.

"What's his name?" Shay whispered, gazing at the creature through the den's magical barrier.

"Dracul," Charlie said with a shrug.

"Yes, because we're just so creative around here," Claire said sarcastically.

Shay laughed, but was too preoccupied with watching the dragon shift on its pile of gold to laugh much.

Clifford touched Shay's shoulder from behind.

"We're going to take down the barrier," he said. "To let you get used to dragons. But we'll all be here, just in case."

Shay nodded, swallowing her nerves as the space between her and the dragon began to crackle, and then to shimmer as the magic faded. The great, scaly nostrils twitched and the head raised, watching Shay closely. She gulped, but was careful to show no signs of fright or submissiveness. She was safe, she reminded herself. There was nothing to be afraid of – still, her fingers tightened reflexively on her wand. Though what spell she would use on a dragon, she had no idea.

Strangely, this felt no different than engaging in mind battles with Altair. The power of the dragon was greater, as was his intelligence. She could feel it like she could feel magic.

"Alright, big guy," she whispered, the others fading into the background as she focused in on the creature before her, "This is just you and me."

Shay took a cautious step forward, watching the dragon carefully all the while. His eyes followed her, his head swaying on his neck.

"Just you and me," Shay sing-songed. There was a special magic for use with animals. Something she had been taught long ago. And it had nothing to do with wands. Everything was in the mind, and therefore particularly suited for a Ravenclaw.

Now, Shay focused her mind on the consciousness of the dragon, feeling the way his curiosity played through the air with vibrations like guitar strings.

"Who am I, hmm?" She whispered, "This puny little human?"

He growled, and there was a spark of fire in his eyes. The restless ripple of his apprehension caught Shay slightly off guard. He didn't understand what was going on – everything was unfamiliar.

"I know," Shay murmured. "but I won't get any closer than this, okay?" True to her word, Shay halted her advance and let the dragon grow accustomed to her presence. So far, so good, she thought. But she had to remember that this would be easier with such an old, wise dragon. He was more willing to accept this than a younger, wilder creature would be. Than the Horntail would be, for example. This dragon had seen more, it couldn't exactly be surprised. And it was far more accustomed to humans.

Suddenly, the dragon's gaze went beyond Shay, and focused on the group behind. The growl began again, low in its throat.

"Hey," Shay said, sharply. "none of that, please, mister. Just you and me, remember? You and me. Right here. Keep your eyes here."

She focused her gaze on the dragon's eyes, both fascinated and repulsed by the unblinking gaze.

"That's right," Shay whispered when their gazes locked. "That's right, you beautiful thing."

The great head began to lower, lower, lower, until the eyes were level with Shay's eyes. His breath was hot, like the breath of an open oven. Shay couldn't breathe beneath its heat.

Behind her, Charlie, Clifford, Henry, and Claire tensed.

"Shay," Charlie growled warningly. Shay fluttered a hand at him, a shushing motion. And the dragon continued to watch her, the scaly nostrils mere inches away.

"Easy, easy," Shay chanted. The dragon made a rattling noise in the back of its throat. Suddenly, there was a burst of magic, Shay was jerked back by a strong arm, and the dragon was left snorting smoke, disoriented and confused, behind a magical barrier once again.

"What are you doing?" Shay screeched, pushing away savagely. Charlie had yanked her back behind the magical barrier with an arm around her waist, pressing her against his chest in the effort to keep her away from the dragon. "Are you crazy?"

Shay was livid, flushed and wild eyed.

"Am I crazy?" Charlie bellowed right back, "Are you crazy, you nutcase? He was about to kill you!"

"He wasn't!" Shay protested. "Couldn't you see, it was working? Just like for the horses! It was working, and you stopped it for no reason!"

"Working?" Charlie's voice had dropped dangerously. He was growling again. "Working? Are you mad? That rattle was the poison…"

"But he wasn't aggressive!" Shay let out all of her breath out in a huff, and pulled a hand through her hair. "He wasn't aggressive," she repeated. "he wasn't even anxious. The thing was just damn curious, and now I'll be lucky if I get near him again."

Shay and Charlie glared at each other following her final words. Charlie looked away first, shoving his hands into his pockets. Shay hardly felt the victory – her pulse was pounding too loudly.

"I expect that's enough for me, for one afternoon," she said coolly. "Claire, I'll see you later."

Clifford, Henry, and Claire were watching her with mixed shock and appreciation.

"Charlie, mate," Clifford said with a laugh as Shay disappeared up the stairs, "I think you've met your match."


	8. Just Curious

Shay flopped onto her bed, beating her fists into her pillow.

Damn him, it had worked! The dragon was listening to her even more closely than Altair ever had! And Charlie Weasley had put a stop to her progress, to any progress she could have made following that.

Oh, she could just kill him.

Shay had been staring at the ceiling, going over the early stages of her "conversation" with the dragon for an indeterminate amount of time. Maybe it had been hours, or perhaps it was only minutes. But before she knew it, there was someone knocking (or, rather, pounding) at her door.

"Shay?"

"Charlie Weasley, I have absolutely no desire to speak to you," Shay called back.

"I have a key, you know."

"Why the hell…"

"I am related to the infamous twins, you know."

"I still don't want to talk to you."

"Would you stop being childish and let me in so that I can apologize?"

"Apologize?" Shay had to admit, she was intrigued. "Are you Imperiused?"

"No. Crazy."

"You aren't doing yourself any favors."

"Sorry. Let me in?"

"Fine. But only because you'd come in, anyway."

Shay scrambled to a sitting position, and flicked her wand to open the door. "Alright, Mr. Moodswing. What brought about this apology?"

"Claire."

"I should have known."

"I'm not sorry, really. But I do think it would be better to actually – er – discuss The Incident there, rather than leaving it at a screaming match."

"Ah, here's the Charlie Weasley I vaguely remember."

He turned his head to the side, looking, for a moment, like a puppy. "What?"

"It's just…" Shay flushed slightly. "I just remembered you being different at Hogwarts than you have been, here."

Charlie had the decency to look rather sheepish.

"I know," he replied. "And for that I do apologize. Let's just say I'm not exactly fond of having a winged horse breeder telling me what to do."

"Apology accepted. Now. The Incident?"

"Yes," Charlie coughed. "Well. I'm not sorry for stopping you. I am sorry for not having the manners to listen to you. But, erm…what in the name of Merlin were you doing, anyway?"

Shay laughed. "What did it look like I was doing?"

"Talking to yourself like a lunatic, quite frankly. You do know that the things don't understand English, right?"

"They understand intentions, though," Shay said, already feeling weary. She knew that what she had been doing would seem strange to Charlie, almost impossible. But if she wanted to continue here (and, surprisingly, she did – her curiosity was getting the better of her) she would need to explain this to him. "Our creatures are different from Muggle animals, obviously," she began. "Dragons, unicorns, winged horses, hippogriffs, are more connected to us than muggle animals are to Muggles, because of the magic."

Shay sighed, shifting to cross her legs, grasping her ankles in a habit from childhood.

"We all have a measure of magic. We just use it in different ways. We cast spells, dragons breathe fire, for example. But it's still there, and it's still magic. And because we all have magic in one form or another, we can communicate."

Charlie was squinting at her, eyebrows furrowed.

"So what you're saying is that you can actually communicate with dragons, horses, whatever, because you and the animals are both magic?"

"Kind of. That's not the extent of it. The communication is a brand of magic itself. Even though we share magic, there is an enormous difference in the way our brains function. The magic works to kind of jump that gap. I can't tell what they're thinking, but I know their general perceptions. That dragon, for example? The strongest emotion he felt was anxiety because he didn't know what in the world I was doing, at first. He was waiting for me to cast a spell on him, to force a potion on him, to sedate him. When I didn't, he got worried. And when he started…rattling? He was curious. Just curious. There was no defensiveness, no malice. He was just wondering."

"They make that sound when they're building up their poison reserves," Charlie said.

"Only then? Or have you just not been paying attention to them?"

Charlie's ears turned red.

"I've been around these things far longer than you have," he said. "No matter how many books you've read on them, you're not going to replace years of experience."

"Charlie," Shay said, exasperated, "it's not about experience or knowledge, it's about…I guess "instinct" is the best word. And…and I can't explain it."

She watched him for a moment, watching as the color faded from his ears. The slight anger he had been feeling must have dissipated. Funny that he let his emotions make him such an open book.  
Then again, he was a Gryffindor.

"But I can show you," she said quietly. "If you'd like."

"Show me? How…"

"It's easy enough. Technically, you already know how to use it. We've just separated ourselves so much from the creatures that it's hard to remember. Like I said, it's ancient magic. We've never lived in total peace with magical creatures, but there used to be some semblance of understanding."

"But you can show me how it's done?"

Shay nodded, turning her head to glance out the window.

"It won't stay, after that," she said. "It takes practice. Lots of it. Years and years of knowledge in order to perfect. I still don't have a perfect grasp of it. But I can make you understand."

"Well." Charlie said, standing "If you're going to stick around, I'd better figure y – this out, sooner rather than later. Where do we start?"

"You take me back to the Welsh Green, with no teams of handlers, and no sudden movements or magic," Shay said. "And we work on my terms."

For a minute, they could have been having a staring contest. Neither moved. Neither blinked.

"Deal," Charlie said, finally. "But only if you relinquish any ideas of command after this…er…experiment. And if I perceive anything…off…about the circumstances, I reserve the right to remove us from the dragon's presence. Deal?"

"Deal. When do we start?"

"Right now, if you'd like."

"Well then, let's get a move on."


	9. I Hear You

**((Hey, there! Thank you to all of you lovely people for adding this to your favorites and/or alerts, and for commenting! I'm glad you're enjoying this. I know I am.**

**Somehow, these characters just won't leave me alone. As you can probably tell by my sudden frequent updates.**

**I am going to try to keep this pattern up, as it's probably better for the story - I'm not going to make any promises as to regular updates. I'm currently working two jobs as well as trying to maintain some semblance of a life. But I am definitely going to keep hacking away at this, and you should see more frequent updates. Especially on the weekends.**

**Alright, that's enough of my rambling. Enjoy Chapter 9! You might even see Chapter 10 by tonight. But I'm not really sure. ; ) )) **

* * *

The grounds were more or less abandoned, but for a few ambling Keepers, watching over the dragons by night. In the dens, the Welsh Green was watching Shay with curious eyes.

_You're back? _ They seemed to say.

"So, how is this going to work?" Charlie asked.

"Take my hand and open the barrier," Shay replied, holding out her hand. Charlie folded it in his, her small hand all but disappearing in his. She could feel the rough pads of callouses, the ridges of scars. "Once the barrier is open, stay silent, stay calm. I'll take care of it from there."  
Charlie nodded, though he looked apprehensive, and cast the spell that opened the barrier. The Welsh Green watched the proceedings with cautious eyes.

"Hello again," Shay whispered. "No surprises this time, I promise. Okay?"

The ripples of the dragon's consciousness were calm, accepting. He was sleepy, and this wasn't new anymore. He could take it in stride.

"I need you to wait for any exploration of this, okay?" Shay whispered, trying to focus her intentions into something the dragon would understand. "Just for a little while. Stay right where you are for now." She thought of waiting, of patience, translating her human language. The dragon seemed to understand, and remained still.

"This is going to feel strange," Shay warned Charlie. "Just don't let go of my hand."

"Have you ever done this before?" Charlie asked suddenly.

Shay grinned sheepishly. "Not really," she said. "But I've had it done to me, and I've seen it happen. Trust me."

Charlie didn't respond, which Shay took as a good thing. Slowly, she began to channel some of the magic. It was all in her head, this channeling. She knew that. It was not a physical magic. Their skin would not jump with gold sparks, their connected hands would not glow. No threads of magic light would weave their minds together. But the magic would – and did – pulse in her mind and flow along her veins. She could feel it reaching her fingers and then nudging at the skin. It was a warm, pleasant feeling, mildly electric. Almost humming. And then she could feel it move from her hand to Charlie's.

He stiffened, the fingers of his hand tightening on hers, though not enough to hurt. The first step in their little experiment had worked. The magic was flowing freely from Shay to Charlie.

"Alright," Shay whispered. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah," Charlie whispered in return. "This is…strange."

"I know. You'll get used to it."

She reconnected herself to the presence of the dragon, feeling his curiosity swelling.

"He's like me, for now," she told the creature. "Don't be afraid."

At the thought of fear the dragon snorted. It knew no such thing, and it made this very clear to Shay.

"Ow," Shay whispered, as the pride the dragon felt played with the magic – it caused a twinge of pain in her head. "Alright, alright, I get it – no fear."

The discomfort subsided, and then, in delay, Charlie winced. The communication would be delayed as it passed from Shay to Charlie. It was something Shay hadn't remembered. It would take a few seconds for Shay to understand and respond before what happened could move on to Charlie.

"You can continue what you were doing earlier," Shay told the dragon. "Before he interrupted. It's okay, now . He understands."

The dragon was skeptical, and the rattle in his throat began again. Shay could feel Charlie tense next to her. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"What are you trying to do?" She whispered, more to herself than to the dragon. It lowered its head again, eyes level with Shay's. Still rattling. Still, Shay could feel nothing but curiosity, the desire to learn. And so she wasn't afraid. When Charlie got these signals, she felt him relax. But only slightly.

Shay's gaze was once more locked with that of the Welsh Green. Charlie seemed to disappear from beside her.

_.You_

Every bone, every muscle in Shay's body, went rigid, her grasp on Charlie's hand became vice-like. She broke the connection quickly, murmuring apologies that made no sense, and stumbled backward. She didn't realize she'd let go of Charlie's hand until she was leaning against the wall, looking at the dragon through a barrier of magic.

The dragon looked highly amused.

"Did you…did that just…? I'm going crazy. Crazy. This isn't possible, it can't be. How…?"

"What happened?"

Charlie stood in front of her, concerned and confused. Shay didn't need magic to read human emotions, especially Charlie's. His were displayed right across his face.

"I don't…I mean didn't you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"I must have broken the connection too quickly," Shay muttered, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Merlin."

"Look, if you don't explain to me what's going on, I'm…"

"Not…not here. He's watching me, and he's laughing, and – "

"The dragon is laughing."

Shay looked up at Charlie.

"Look," she said sharply. "I sound crazy. I sound absolutely damn insane, I know. But if you want to know what happened, we need to go elsewhere. Alright?"

"Fine, fine. Don't hyperventilate one me, yeah?"

Shay hadn't even realized how fast her breathing had become. She closed her eyes and began to slow it, taking deep breaths.

"You okay?" Charlie asked.

"Fine. I think."

"C'mon. Let's get you out of here."

He took her hand again with more purpose than he had before, and led her back to the staircase. "You're shaking like a leaf," he said. "You know that?"

"Just a little…perturbed. I'll be okay."

"Must be one hell of a story."

"You have no idea."

The two emerged from the dens, stepping into cool nighttime air.

"What time is it?" Shay asked suddenly.

"Just passed midnight," Charlie replied. "Why?"

"We were down there longer than I thought, that's all. Where should we go?"

"My cabinmate works as night-Keeper," Charlie said. "We could go over there and stay away from Claire, for now."

Shay gave Charlie an odd look.

"She doesn't mean to be, but she's rather a gossip," Charlie said. "Says things she doesn't mean to and all that."

"Then we'll definitely want to avoid her, for now."

Charlie led the way through the mostly-deserted grounds and stopped in front of a cabin. He unlocked the door and held it open for Shay, casting a spell to turn the lights on as he closed the door.

The cabin was cluttered, unlike the one Shay shared with Ana and Claire. There was a pile of boots by the door in varying states of muddiness, books and papers were scattered on every surface, and several mugs sat empty by the sink. It was by no means a disgrace, but one could immediately tell that there were other things on the residents' minds than cleanliness.

"Sorry for the mess," Charlie said almost cheerfully, noticing that Shay was taking in the state of the cabin. "It's kind of difficult to keep clean with the schedules. Here, take a seat – I promise there's nothing worse than paper on those chairs."

He cleared a chair off for her, stacking the papers haphazardly on the end of the table, instead.

"Tea?"

"Please."

A kettle poured tea into two large mugs, one of which he passed to Shay. "Cream or sugar?'

"No, thanks."

Charlie shrugged and added hearty doses of both to his own mug.

"So," he said. "Start at the beginning. What'd the beast do?"

Shay looked at Charlie with a level gaze.

"You won't believe me."

Charlie returned her look, raising an eyebrow as well.

"Try me," he challenged.

And so, she began.


	10. The Experiment Begins

"It spoke," she said finally, in a voice so quiet that Charlie wasn't sure he'd actually heard it. "It spoke to me, Charlie. In our words, in English. But…"

"Wait. Real words? Like…they made sense and everything?"

"He said, "I hear you." And I know it wasn't me, wasn't my voice. This voice was ancient, Charlie. And powerful. Something I knew I'd never be able to make up. "

"Well…" Charlie ran a hand through his hair and seemed unwilling to continue. "They're smart creatures, dragons. Maybe he picked it up…?"

"No," Shay interrupted, absently spinning her half-empty teacup in front of her. "No, because the first time that I spoke to him…you can tell when they know something. Even if it's just a tiny glimpse. You know. And there was no trace of any kind of human knowledge the first time that I spoke to him. He's smart and always has been, that's sure – I could tell that, immediately. But he didn't have language, then."

"And he does now."

"Precisely."

"And that's all he said? I hear you?"

Shay nodded, raising a shoulder in a half-shrug.

"I didn't give him much time to say anything else," she murmured. "It scared me. All of a sudden this huge, huge voice just comes rumbling out of nowhere. For a moment, I…" Shay flushed slightly. "Nevermind."

"For a moment you…what?" Charlie pressed.

"It's nothing," Shay said. "It's not important."

Charlie's eyes narrowed.

"Shay, you realize that I outrank you, here? If this has anything to do with that dragon, you need to tell me."

Shay was not looking at Charlie's face, but his voice was not unkind – stern, perhaps, but only businesslike.

"It felt like my seventh year at Hogwarts," Shay said. "You remember. When your sister…" she trailed off, catching the brief flare of alarm at the old memory in Charlie's eyes. "Anyway. I felt it then, too. The basilisk. I could _hear_ it." Shay barely suppressed a shudder. "Only rarely. It had known enough cunning evil that it could hide from even the oldest magic. But there were times it…it forgot to guard itself. And it said terrible, terrible things."

"Like what?"

Charlie's voice was suddenly sharp, and it brought Shay's head up. His gaze was intent, and she couldn't read into the meaning.

"It was mostly…mostly this litany of "ripping, shredding, killing,"" Shay whispered. ""Kill, kill." It said that a lot. But then, sometimes…sometimes it would murmur other things. And sometimes those things were nonsense. But when it was really…emotional, I guess is the best term…it would be more eloquent. "Master has come home, the heir of my first and only friend," I remember that clearly. And "Such pretty eyes, pretty, pretty eyes. Dark as tunnels. Tainted by mirrors, wish I could…"" Shay gulped, the trembling returning to her hands as the old memory pulled up old emotion. ""Wish I could have tasted them," " she spat out.

Charlie sat, grave and silent.

"When Ginny…" He began, his voice level.

"I didn't hear who it was," Shay said, gaze back in her mug. "If that's what you're wondering. But I heard its…jubilation." She couldn't withhold her shudder, this time.

"You spent that whole year listening to that?"

Shay nodded.

"I became a bit of a recluse, eventually," she said with a small smile. "It didn't seem to like Ravenclaw Tower. Too airy, I suppose. It liked earth and stone."

"Was it evil, then?"

"Not in nature," Shay said, quietly. "Nothing is really evil by nature, it may surprise you to know. Though there are…instances of it." The words 'Lord Voldemort' hung over both of them, unsaid. "And humans are a bit trickier. But animals, they…they don't tend to start off with bad intentions. What they want is simple – food, shelter, water, protection, the ability to protect. Above all, they desire to live. The basilisk was raised by evil. It knew nothing else."

Shay laughed, and the sound was surprisingly dark. "I sound like I'm defending the thing," she said.

"No. I understand."

The silence that followed was long, though not uncomfortable.

"So," Charlie said, "what comes next? I mean, do you think that'll happen again?"

"It would certainly make this little mission impossibly easy," Shay mused. "So I'm inclined to think it won't quite work out that way. It may just be that dragon. His age is a considerable factor."

"Because he was able to figure things out faster," Charlie concluded. "If wisdom comes with age."

Shay nodded.

"And he was surprisingly flexible," she added. "He didn't mind the idea of communicating with me. Younger dragons might be more set in their ways."

"So the total opposite of humans, hmm?"

Charlie was grinning. Shay laughed.

"So it would seem."

"And I ask again: What comes next?"

"We experiment, I suppose," Shay said. "Work our way through the breeds and see if that has anything to do with it. The horses, I guess, could act as the control group. They're fairly normal creatures. And then we have Dracul."

Charlie nodded, then stood and disappeared down a short corridor. He reappeared moments later with a roll of parchment, a quill, and some ink.

"Alright," he said, scribbling in a hand that Shay could hardly read, "We'll start by age. Since that seems a good possibility for deciding factor. I'll set you up with a whole range of dragons, from hatchling to near-dead."

"Near…" Shay wrinkled her nose, curved her shoulders inward and shook her head.

"They won't die on you, promise. Just meant the most ancient we can muster. Anyway, once we're through with age, we move on to…"

"I'd move on to sex," Shay said. "The difference could have an impact on what they accept and how they process what's happening."

Charlie continued scrawling.

"Alright, and following that, we can move on to breed," he said. "Anything else?"

"Exposure to human handling," Shay said immediately, "and location. If they were found in more densely populated areas, they might have a broader understanding of humans. And if they were born and raised here, those concepts might be totally different."

"Right. So. Age, sex, breed, exposure to handlers, location. I'd say that's a decent little list."

Charlie capped the ink and set his quill down. "I have to take care of other business during the day, but we could meet in the evenings, if you'd like. "

"I could always have Claire help me," Shay said. "Or Clifford. It's really no trouble…"

But Charlie was shaking his head.

"Look," he said, "I'm invested in this now. And I'm going to see it unfold."

"Just don't go hurtling me through the dens again, okay?"

Charlie grinned.

"Your fault," he said, almost cheerfully. And then yawned.

"Alright," he said. "Sleep. To your cabin, Miss. Morse. Sleep well."

"Goodnight, Charlie," she replied as she stood to leave. "And, um…thank you. For the tea."

"Not a problem."

Shay was halfway through the door, preparing to close it behind her, when Charlie called out,

"Oh, and Shay?" When she glanced back, he was grinning. "Sorry for being such an ass, before," he said. "Maybe someday I'll explain myself."

For a moment, Shay felt as if she would laugh; there was a light, fluttery sensation somewhere behind her collarbone.

"You'd better."

* * *

**((Alright, I'm mixing things up and putting this at the end. **

**Honestly? I'm not really happy with this chapter. But I think it was necessary, info-wise, and at least lets Shay and Charlie talk without interruption. Unfortunately (for all involved...myself included) it looks like they might be pretty clueless about each other. At least for a while. It might take some shenanigans to actually get these two together. But they will get there. And shenanigans are fun, don't worry. ; ) **

**Once again, thanks for the reviews and the adds to various lists! It makes writing so much more fun.))**


	11. Horntail

**((Alright, so the entire month of July was pretty much eaten up, and I really have no idea where it went. Suffice it to say, I didn't have much time to work on this. But, at long last, here's another chapter. It's going to be the last one in Romania for a little while - they'll head back to Hogwarts, next time.  
Still working at how I'm going to transition this in - my major plotline takes place at the end of the seventh book, but I'm thinking that there will be a few chapters of in-between-time, just for fun. I promise that I actually know where this is going...which is probably the first time for fanfics from me.))**

Shay was beginning to lose track of time – they didn't follow it much, here, and the routine was basically the same every day. There was nothing to distinguish a Sunday from a Monday, or a Saturday from a Thursday. Time just slipped on and life in the reserve continued with little interference from the outside world.

In Shay's cabin, mornings always began in the same fashion: Claire would wake up long before Ana and Shay. She was a natural early riser, and put her extra time to good use. Eventually, she would come down the halls to pound on their doors, shouting "Breakfast!" Shortly following this wake-up call, Ana and Shay would stumble, still sleepy, to the kitchen. After breakfast, the three would head down to the dens where they went their separate ways. Technically, Shay was not employed by the Reserve, but by the Ministry. And though the Ministry had a heavy hand in the Reserve's dealings, it was not the sole owner. Therefore, while Claire and Ana were paid to care for the dragons (and each other), Shay was employed to observe.

And observe she did. She had to, after all, and there was little else she really wanted to do. There was enough to see to last a lifetime. Horntails and Welsh Greens and Fireballs and handlers, all moving in a complicated pattern.

"This is actually a dragon sanctuary, more than a "reserve,"" Claire said one morning as she and Shay walked down to the dens. "We take a lot of special cases. Older dragons, tougher ones, dragons that don't take so well to any kind of training. Some of them were deemed "useless," because they can't be used to guard Gringotts vaults or any other nonsense."

"So you nurse them to health?"

"Some of them. It really does depend on the circumstances. And the dragon."

"Of the dragons, what's the percentage of special cases?"

"Oh, I don't know," Claire huffed. "It might very well be fifty-fifty. I've never thought to check. Just kind of do what I'm told, you know?"

"Shay!"

The voice was unmistakably Henry's (the accent, Shay had learned, was the product of his being born and raised in Louisiana). Shay and Claire stopped to allow Henry to catch up. He skidded to a stop, breathing slightly heavily.

"Morning, Henry," Shay said.

"Morning. Have you heard, yet?"

Shay furrowed her brow, trying to match the vague question to any recent gossip.

"Heard what?" She finally asked.

"The Tri-Wizard Tournament. First task. Ethan Hardy, you know him? He got his arm smashed by the Horntail's….tail."

"What has that to do with me?"

"Charlie thinks you might have better luck with the Horntail than Ethan did," Henry replied. "Don't ask me why. But, apparently, you're coming with us to Hogwarts. If you agree."

Hogwarts. The outline of the castle rising into the sky played through Shay's memory. Of course she'd agree.

"Yeah," Shay replies, "sounds great."

"Good! Charlie wants to talk to you sometime today. I'd better get going…I've got business to take care of."

"That boy," Claire said with a laugh as Henry loped off, "never stops, does he?"

"No, that he does not."

Claire sighed. "Guess we'd better not either," she said, and grabbed Shay's wrist. "C'mon, then. We're gonna be late."

* * *

"Charlie?"

Shay called through the door, rapping against the wood a few more times. "Charlie, you wanted to see me?"

Finally, the door swung open, revealing a very sleepy-looking Charlie. Shay raised an eyebrow, then glanced down at the slim silver watch on her wrist.

"You do know it's passed two o'clock, right? In the afternoon."

Charlie grumbled something about napping, and stepped aside to let Shay in. The step turned into more of a half-asleep stumble.

"I'm sorry," Shay said, "I didn't think you'd be sleeping."

"S'okay. Just, ah…" Charlie yawned widely. "Just haven't been sleeping well."

"Because of the tournament?"

"Partly. Getting three dragons to Hogwarts wasn't going to be an easy task, but four…? Add in the Horntail, and there's just…there's just disaster waiting to happen."

"Why the Horntail?"

"Not exactly many other options, are there?" Charlie snapped. He closed his eyes, ran a hand through his sleep-messy hair. "Sorry. Didn't mean to…anyway, I'd made the mistake of mentioning the Horntail to Hagrid and…"

"And so now you're stuck, because he's basically guilted you into bringing the thing. Without ever meaning to, of course."

Charlie allowed the sight of a sleepy grin. "Of course. Anyway, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Hagrid? Well, not what I was expecting, but…"

"Very funny," Charlie said, adding a generous dose of sugar to his coffee. "I'm just dying of laughter. Not Hagrid, the Horntail. I think it's time we look into your…er…communication with it."

Shay could feel herself go pale. The mere thought of the Horntail left her quaking in her boots, most days. The idea of getting into its head was terrifying.

"Shay." Charlie's voice was the quiet, even voice of someone talking to a frightened animal. "I know. Believe me, I don't want to do this any more than you do. But remember that Chinese Fireball we'd been working with?"

Shay nodded – the creature had been so totally unreceptive that it had, at first, attempted to whack Shay from its den with a backward swipe of its foot. She had managed to scramble out of the way before it could do any major damage, but its claw had hooked behind her knees momentarily. She'd fallen backward, landing, hard, on the earthen floor. Her back had been sore for a week. Slowly, however, the dragon had allowed more and more communication from Shay – from behind the magical barrier.

"If you can get that thing to listen to a word you say," Charlie said, resting his hands on her shoulders, "you can get the Horntail to listen. Okay?"

Shay nodded, ducking her head to avoid any eye contact – her heartbeat had stuttered at the sudden contact, and she didn't want it to show.

_You don't feel that way for him, and he definitely feels nothing for you, _she reminded herself. _Stop being silly. You're a Ravenclaw, for goodness' sake._

Her heartbeat stilled, finally. "Alright. But we leave the barrier up. For now."

Charlie chuckled. "My thoughts, exactly."

"Charlie?"

He had taken a seat at the table, crossing one ankle over his knee. He had managed to open the Daily Prophet without setting his mug down.

"Shay?"

"Am I…that is, I'm going to Hogwarts? For the first task?"

One side of Charlie's mouth tilted up in a half-grin.

"Do you want to?"

Shay grinned, which caused Charlie to laugh. "Yeah, you're going."

"Even if the Horntail really, really doesn't want to listen?"

"Even then. "

His smile was warmer than she'd ever seen it.

"Good," she said. "Great. Thanks,"

"Don't thank me," Charlie said, "You're the one with the freaky talent. Here – " he passed her the section of the _Prophet _he'd finished with, and gestured to a chair. "Have a seat, read the Prophet. I just want to finish this, and we can go see about that Horntail."

No sooner had Shay taken a seat than there came a light tap on the window – Shay's mail owl, Turnip, had arrived with several envelopes and a glossy tube in his talons. Apparently, he'd been too impatient to wait for Shay at her own cabin.

"Turnip!"

"Turnip?"

Shay grinned sheepishly, heaving the window open and taking the mail from the owl. He hopped up onto her shoulder, nipping affectionately at her hair.

"He's rather fond of them," she said. "And my little sister thought it fit."

Charlie chuckled and shook his head, returning to the paper. Shay rifled through her mail, slipping letters from home and from Oliver into her pocket. The rolled magazine made her laugh – The Quibbler, sent from Luna Lovegood. The younger girl had been a first-year when Shay had been in seventh. After a few weeks of observing a few too many instances of "Looney Lovegood"s, Shay had taken the younger girl under her wing. It hadn't taken long to understand that while Luna could be a bit…well…looney, she was not unintelligent. A Ravenclaw through and through, she was whip-smart behind her vague, dreamy eyes. And she could see the thestrals.

"Is that _The Quibbler?" _

Shay nodded, holding the magazine up for Charlie to see (The Fourth Champion: Aided by the Nearly-Invisible?) and laughed at his expression.

"You'd be surprised," she said. "It's quite amusing, really."

"I can only imagine."

Shay gave her owl a cup of water before sending him back to her cabin to rest. By the time the owl had gone, Charlie was ready to visit the Horntail.

"About time," Shay said. "You read more slowly than Binns."

Charlie glared at her but made no retort as they climbed into the magical staircase and then began the deepest descent into the dens that Shay had ever experienced. This far underground, the dragons' caverns were larger, the magic fortifying their barriers stronger. The dragons here were more dangerous than those above. Wild, unruly creatures. Mostly the young, mostly male.

"Here we are," Charlie said. They halted in front of the magical barrier separating them from the most frightening dragon that Shay had yet seen. It was wide awake and watchful, narrowing its eyes ast the arrival of the two humans. It looked as if she thought they would make quite a good lunch.

"I'm not so sure of this," Shay admitted in a whisper. "She doesn't look exactly…amenable to the situation."

"I'd be surprised if she was," Charlie said with a shrug. "All we can do is try."

"You've certainly changed your ideas about this, since I've been here," Shay said, crossing her arms in mock-anger.

"Well," Charlie said, rubbing the back of his neck, "That was before the Welsh Green Incident."

"The Welsh Green Incident?"

"TWGI, that's what I said."

Shay snorted.

"You, Charlie Weasley, are ridiculous."

"And rather proud of it too, may I add."

"Impossible."

The dragon growled a low, terrifying rumble that shook the ground beneath their feet.

"I guess we'd better get started," Charlie said, suddenly all business once again.

Shay nodded, swallowing her fear as she went to face the dragon.

In her time at the Romanian dragon sanctuary, Shay had seen many variations of dragon. This one, however, swept them all away. It was huge and powerful with yellow, slit-pupiled eyes. Its teeth were glistening ivory, sharp as razors, and its tail was adorned with a bristle of spikes. The magic Shay was attempting nearly burned her. She must have winced unknowingly, because Charlie had asked if she was alright. Shay nodded slightly, squinting through the magical barrier at the dragon.

It – she – wanted out. Shay could feel that desire coursing through her with every heartbeat. Out, out, out. To fly, fly up and away. Forever. To never be caged again. The dragon had no words to describe this desire, but it had overtaken her. Every thought was a beat of wings, a breath of air.

"Alright, lovely," Shay whispered. "Let me in."

But she had no such luck. At the unfamiliar sensation of magic mixed with human voice the dragon roared. Its cry was high and piercing, shuddering through the air. Shay sank back from it on instinct, pressing her hands tightly over her ears.

"No need for that," she said sharply, when the sound had died down. "Come on, now."

She had begun to pace in front of the barrier, trying to keep the dragon's attention. The eyes swung back and forth, following her. This time, when Shay attempted to reach the dragon, her mind was sabotaged with images. Bloody images, things she'd never wanted to see – the dens in flames as triumphant dragons rose from the wreckage. Handlers limp and bloody, broken on the ground. And the dragon could already taste the salt.

Just as Shay shivered, as she prepared to release herself from this communication, this torture, the magical barrier between her and the dragon flickered. She gasped, pulling in air, and stumbled away from it as fast as she could, ducking against Charlie without thinking.

He didn't seem to think, either, his arm protectively going around her shoulders.

"That thing," Shay said, still shaking, voice muffled by Charlie's shirt, "Is crazy."


	12. Hogwarts Will Welcome You Home

**((So, commenters? I love you guys. Seriously, you make me so happy. You are all wonderful, wonderful people.  
I'm also just really a little bit too happy because a huge weight was just lifted off of my shoulders, and now I'm kind of giddy.  
But I really do love you all for your seriously amazing comments. **

**Alsoalsoalso, I should warn you - I'm moving to my college in a few weeks, so things might get a little crazy after that, update-wise. But I'll keep you posted.))**

* * *

Somehow, Shay hadn't quite imagined what chaos transporting four dragons from the Reserve to Hogwarts would entail. Getting the dragons ready for transport turned out to be the easy part – the Handlers had simply slipped the creatures a Sleeping Draught in their food, and in no time at all the dragons were fast asleep and docile. It was getting the dragons into their crates and sending the handlers on their way that turned out to be the chaotic part. Of Shay's new-found group of friends, only Charlie and Henry were going to Hogwarts. Claire and Ana (who still hadn't spoken more than a few sentences to Shay) were both remaining behind, as was Clifford.

"Looks like everyone's here," Charlie said, appearing suddenly at Shay's shoulder. The dragons had all been put in their crates, and now the handlers were milling about with broomsticks.

"How…?"

"We transport the dragons by magic," Charlie explained. "And then we follow, after."

"What's in the smaller crates?"

Two knee-high wooden crates stood next to handlers Shay did not recognize.

"Those do come with us," Charlie said. "Martin and Nichols, there, will take care of them. They're dragon eggs – they wanted nesting mothers and eggs, for some purpose. I don't know specifics."

"They didn't tell you anything?"

"Not much. " Charlie glanced at Shay, noticing her empty hands. "You don't have a broom?"

Shay's cheeks turned faintly pink.

"I never liked them much," she said. "If I wanted to fly, I took a horse. And I use Apparition for anything else."

Charlie studied her for a moment.

"You can ride with me," he decided.

"I could just Apparate to Hogsmeade," Shay said. Charlie shook his head.

"We're going to need all the help we can get, when we arrive," he said. "And that'll take too much time." Suddenly, Charlie grinned. "Not scared, are you?"

"Scared?"

"Of flying."

"Of course not."

"Good. That's settled, then. " He turned away from Shay, toward the group at large. "Alright!" he said. "Let's send these dragons on their way."

A burst of magic from various wands caused the crates to vanish, magically sending their sleeping occupants to Hogwarts castle. Shay climbed onto the broom behind Charlie.

"Hold on," he said, just moments before he pushed off from the ground. Shay squeaked, wrapping her arms around Charlie's waist as she watched the ground fall away.

She had forgotten how much she hated not being able to see broad, secure shoulders and wings between herself and the ground. Shay looked around instead, watching the other handlers fly about them, watching the sky rather than the ground.

"It won't be terribly long," Charlie assured her.

"I know," she said, quietly. "It's still rather unnerving, though."

"Flying?"

"Not having wings."

"Well," said Charlie, "Here's something to cheer you up: Beauxbatons brought their horse-drawn carriage."

Shay did smile at this, though Charlie couldn't see.

"I know those horses," Shay said happily.

"I kind of figured."

Before too long, the handlers were touching down outside of Hogwarts' gates. Three familiar figures waited for them there. The tall, narrow shadow that was Dumbledore, a slightly shorter outline was Professor McGonagall, and the tallest of the three was, undeniably, Rubeus Hagrid.

"Ah," Dumbledore said, the evidence of a smile in his voice. "Our friend from Romania have arrived! You may send your brooms to Madam Hooch for the night – they'll be in very good keeping."

Shay managed to climb off of the broom without any major accidents. When Charlie had dismounted, he tapped his broom with his wand. It went zooming away with the rest of the handlers' brooms.

"Lumos," Charlie murmured. His wand lit up instantly – Shay and the handlers followed suit.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said as he admitted the group through the gates. "To most of you, welcome back."

Shay smiled, looking up at the turrets and towers of Hogwarts Castle. Though it was late, lights flickered in some of the windows, one of which Shay instantly picked out as the Ravenclaw Common Room. Hogwarts had been her second home for so long that she missed it with an ache like the homesickness of first year.

"It's good to be back," Charlie said. "We've already got rooms sorted at The Three Broomsticks – we won't be intruding for too long, tonight."

Dumbledore nodded.

"As we do already have Beauxbatons and Durmstrang staying in the castle that is, perhaps, a wise arrangement. Although I am sure we could find room for you, somewhere."

"We appreciate that," Charlie said, "But it's really not necessary. Professor McGonagall, it's good to see you again."

"And you, Mr. Weasley. Although due to the fact that you are no longer a student, you are permitted to call me "Minerva"."

"Er…thank you, Professor McGonagall."

Shay laughed despite herself, causing the stern-looking older woman to face her.

"Ms. Morse?" She asked, seeming about as surprised as Shay had ever seen her. "We had no idea you would be joining us."

"The Ministry asked me to help the Reserve in dragon research," Shay explained. "They were…" she blushed and cleared her throat. "They were rather impressed with my work with the horses."

"As well they should be!" Hagrid said, clapping Shay on the shoulder. "You always were good with Magical Creatures…right up there with Charlie, here."

Hagrid clapped a hand on Charlie's shoulder. Charlie winced and stumbled forward a step or two, but recovered admirably quickly. "Thanks, Hagrid," he said with a slight grin, rubbing his shoulder. Those who knew Hagrid in the crowd chuckled. "I assume the dragons got here safely? And that there have been no…er…_problems_ with the crates?"

"None at all!" Hagrid replied cheerily. "All still sound asleep, in fact."

"Good," Charlie said. "Good. Now, the crates are charmed so that only a handler could open them. We'll be back tomorrow, around the time they'll be waking up. Alright?"

Hagrid had the sense to look sheepish. Shay was certain that Charlie had hit the nail on the head concerning Hagrid's curiosity (and obsession) where dragons were concerned.

"We'd better be heading back to Hogsmeade," Charlie said. "Madam Rosemerta'll be waiting for us."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Once again, Mr. Weasley, thank you for your assistance," Dumbledore said with a trademark smile, the light from the wands glinting off of his half-moon glasses. "The First Task will indeed be remarkable."

"I hope so," Charlie said, and grinned. "Good night, Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Hagrid."

"Good night," the three replied in nearly the same breath.

"See you tomorrow," Shay said over her shoulder as the group made their way down to Hogsmeade Village, where butterbeer and cozy rooms in The Three Broomsticks waited for them.

* * *

"Shay! Shay Morse! Get up, lazy, we've got loads to do before we get to Hogwarts!"

Shay groaned, rolled over, and pressed her face into her pillow.

"Go away, Charlie," she said, her voice slurred with remaining sleep.

"No chance, Morse. Don't make me open this door."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?"

Shay sat up, rubbing the back of her hand across her eyes.

"Do you remember what I did to Henry when he scared me last week? That could be you."

"Is that a threat, Miss. Morse?"

Shay smiled and blinked in the sunlight coming through the window of her cozy room.

"It might be. Go away, Charlie, I'll be down in a minute."

"You'd better be."

His footsteps moved away from the door.

"Charlie!"

"Yeah?"

"What time is it?"

"Nearly four."

"In the afternoon?"

"Sure isn't the morning, if that's what you're asking."

Shay huffed, blowing hair from her face.

"Please tell me I'm not the last one up."

"Far from it. You and I are headed out early. Get yourself moving, Shay."

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you."

This time, the footsteps clomped down the stairs. Shay could hear Madame Rosemerta greeting Charlie and the low, indistinguishable rumble that was Charlie's voice in reply. She didn't realize she was smiling until the mirror above her dresser said,

"You, dearie, have it bad."

Shay blinked, arranging her face in an unconcerned expression.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she informed it as she slipped into comfortable Muggle clothing – jeans and a rather over-sized knit sweater in Ravenclaw blue. Holding a black elastic in her teeth, she ran a brush through her hair and scraped it back experimentally, turning her head to the side in order to examine the effect.

"Quite nice, if you're trying to look like a puppy," the mirror said, sounding bored. Shay let her hair fall.

"Well, what would you suggest?" She snapped. "I can't necessarily leave it down while I'm around fire breathing dragons, can I?"

"No, indeed not," the mirror replied. Shay hated to think it, but the mirror definitely sounded amused. "But have you ever heard of a braid, my dear? A French braid, in particular, might look quite becoming on you. Not too tight, mind."

Shay rolled her eyes but did as the mirror suggested.

"And push those sleeves up!" the mirror said. "You don't want to look like a puffy blue cloud, do you?"

If looks could kill, Shay thought, surely that mirror would be in shards by now.

"You know I'm right," the mirror said smugly. The worst part was, Shay did. She pushed the loose sleeves up toward her elbows.

"There, now." The mirror said. "Not bad for an afternoon of dragon chasing. Your boy there should be quite impressed."

"He is not," Shay said, pulling a boot on and ducking down to look for its mate under the bed, "my boy. Whatever that means."

"Mm, well. I wouldn't be so sure."

Shay shoved the other boot on her foot and headed for the door. "You'd have to be blind not to see it!" The mirror called after her. Shay wrinkled her nose, closing the door with a firm snap.

"Blind not to see what?"

Shay nearly jumped out of the boots she had just put on. Charlie was standing in the middle of the staircase.

"What? Oh! That. Er…nothing, it just…it…I mean –" Shay cleared her throat, closed her eyes, and took a breath. "It's just spouting nonsense again, I think the thing's broken…"

"I MOST CERTAINLY AM NOT!" the mirror called very clearly through the closed door. Shay winced.

"Um…exactly how much of that did you hear?"

"Just the last bit, why?"

"Good. I mean…no reason." Shay moved past Charlie down the stairs, where Madam Rosemerta had set out a glass of pumpkin juice and a plate of toast. Shay spread butter and jam on a slice of it, drank the pumpkin juice, and then happily accepted a bottle of butterbeer.

"It's getting colder by the minute," Madame Rosemerta said, passing Charlie a bottle as they left The Three Broomsticks. They thanked her as they set off for Hogwarts.

"We're the only ones with siblings at Hogwarts," Charlie explained, biting into an apple as they walked. "I thought we could take some time to see them before the rest of the team shows up to take care of the dragons."

Cat. Shay grinned at the thought of seeing her sister again, and noticed Charlie smiling as well.

"I thought that'd be a good idea," he said. "We can show them the dragons, too, just as long as they don't tell anyone."

"Isn't your brother's best friend Harry Potter?"

"Yeah, but Ron's good – he can keep a secret under enough…pressure."

Shay laughed, they turned a corner, and Hogwarts rose into the sky, Hagrid standing at the gate to let them in.


	13. The First Task

**((Okay, just a few things: **

**1.) As I'm sure you've noticed, I don't write accents. Ever. But I felt like I needed to, sometimes, for Hagrid. The result is a little awkward, but you know what he sounds like, anyway. So I'm not too concerned.**

**2.) This chapter is actually kind of random, but it was a ton of fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it. **

**3.) Next chapter should be pretty darn fun, too. And might even include our dear Charlie and Shay getting closer than this awkward friends stage thing. **

**4.) I love you all. The end. **

**5.) POTTERMORE OHMYGOSH. If you got in, let me know, because I'm officially over-the-top excited. **

**The end.) **

Standing next to Hagrid, cast into shadow by the half-Giant's bulk, was the familiar figure of Cat and, on Hagrid's other side, a collection of Weasleys. Charlie was grinning already, Shay noticed, just at seeing his family from the lane. As they approached the gates, Shay began to smile, as well – Cat was nearly jumping, she was so excited.

"I take it that's your sister?"

Shay nodded, the grin plastered across her face.

"Welcome back!" Hagrid called as the gates opened to admit them.

"Shay!" Cat cried, running headlong into Shay and hugging her.

"Hey, Cat," Shay said. "How has my favorite Hufflepuff been?"

Cat smiled broadly, eyes sparkling above her black and yellow scarf.

"Great!" She said enthusiastically. "And guess what? I'm actually really good at Potions! Can you believe it, Shay?"

"I can," Shay said. "I knew you were going to do well, Kitten." She extracted herself from her sister's arms and turned to see that Charlie and the rest of the Weasleys were waiting. "Are you ready to meet some dragons, Cat?"

Cat jumped on her toes, eyes and smile betraying just how excited she really was.

"Let's get going, then," Charlie said from behind them. "Before they decide it's time to wake up."

"They're sleeping?" Cat asked.

"Sleeping Draught," Shay explained as the sisters joined the Weasleys.

"Shay, these are my siblings. I take it you recognize Fred and George…"

Both of the twins grinned. Shay smiled in response, rolled her eyes.

"I'm familiar with them, yes," she replied.

"And this is Ron, and, of course, Ginny. Guys, this is Shay Morse. She's helping with some research at the Reserve."

The Weasleys all said hello, Shay introduced Cat, and the group set off across the grounds toward the Forbidden Forest.

"Where are we going?" Cat asked, looking at the trees apprehensively.

"The dragons are in the forest," Shay said. "To keep people from snooping."

"Not that that'd stop us," one of the twins said with a grin.

"So it's a good thing Charlie's here to make it all official," the other chimed in. Shay smiled and shook her head. She was familiar with the twins, but not enough to know the little things that would tell them apart.

The group came upon the crates soon enough – not a very exciting view, to be sure. Wooden boxes filled with sleeping dragons. Ron and the twins looked almost crestfallen. Charlie simply grinned conspiratorially at Shay and waved his wand. One side of the crate nearest them appeared to vanish. As Charlie continued to point his wand in various directions, the rest followed suit.

"Blimey," said Ron, mouth agape as he looked in at the dragons. "They're huge!"

The sarcastic edge of Ravenclaw that had never quite left Shay was quite eager to answer this. She quelled the urge. Besides, it was much more amusing to watch Charlie roll his eyes at the comment.

"D'you know what the first Task is going to be?" Ginny asked her brother eagerly.

Charlie shook his head. "Not a clue, really," he said. "Although it might have something to do with the…"

Shay made a quick slicing motion with one finger across her throat, eyes darting to Hagrid. He seemed quite enamored with the dragons, and may have totally missed any reference to dragon eggs. But you could never quite be sure.

When the charm of the dragons had finally worn off, they headed up to the Castle to drop off the younger Weasleys and Cat.

"I'll be around for a little while, Kitty-Cat," Shay said as her sister hugged her good-bye. "You'll see me again before I leave, promise."

"How about joining me in me hut for tea?" Hagrid asked as the doors closed behind Cat. "It's not often that two've my favorite Hogwarts students come back fer a visit."

As much as Shay liked Hagrid, she never could stand his rock cakes. After spending more time slowly sipping tea and pretending to chip away at a rather large version of the dreaded things, Charlie and Shay headed back out into the grounds.

"Oh!" Hagrid exclaimed, "before I forget – these are from Dumbledore and the House Elves. He said it didn't make much sense for you to go back to Hogsmeade, just to come back again."

Shay and Charlie each took a package of what could only be food, and started back into the chilly confines of the Forbidden Forest. The dragons had needed to be hidden well, and so were a very long trek down the perimeter of the forest.

"It'll be a good thing when they wake up," Charlie said. "Things'll be louder than hell, then."

Shay nodded, glancing up at the darkening skies.

"Do dragon handlers always keep such strange hours?" She asked.

"Only for Hogwarts."

They found a fallen tree to sit on just outside of the cluster of dragon crates.

Shay yawned, flicked her wand, and summoned a pile of dry wood. Another flick, and it had assembled in something resembling a fire pit. With a murmured "Incendio," she soon had a warm, flickering fire.

"Good thinking," Charlie said, already pawing through the contents of his food package. "Oh, excellent. I always did like those House Elves."

Shay's effort to contain her laughter wound up as more of a very unlady-like snort.

"Visited the kitchens often during school?"

Charlie had just bitten into a thick chicken sandwich. He settled for a nod.

"All the time," he said when he had finally swallowed his food. "The elves loved me."

Shay crunched into an apple, considering the fact that she really wasn't at all surprised about this.

"It's amazing how close you and your family are," Shay said. "Even with you being in Romania so much."

Charlie shrugged. "We talk a lot," he replied. "Floo and letters, mostly. And that's not even the whole lot of them, as I'm sure you know. Bill's the one I hear from most often. He works for Gringotts."

"Oh, really? So does that have anything to do with the fact that the reserve works with Gringotts in dragon security?"

"Probably helps a bit, yeah."

Shay rolled her eyes, tossing the wrappings from their meals onto the fire. Both of them watched it burn, appreciating the warmth of the fire as the evening got progressively colder. The rest of them weren't supposed to reach the site until fairly late. Most of their work was to take place between eleven-thirty and midnight. Charlie seemed to be falling asleep, sitting on the ground with his back against the fallen tree. In a bid to get closer to the fire (…and, alright, the proximity to Charlie didn't hurt, either,) Shay had adopted the same technique. She drew her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them, hands idly resting on the ground by her feet.

"Shay?"

"Hmm?"

"You've got…stuff…here."

…What? Shay's brows furrowed, and she turned to glance at Charlie.

"Pardon?"

"You've got…oh, nevermind. Here."

Charlie reached out, plucking forest debris from Shay's hair. Bits of leaves had gotten caught in the weaving of her braid. Shay watched him, still and quiet as a startled deer.

This…this was foreign, and she didn't quite know what to do about it. Not that there had never been other boys (she hadn't been a recluse) but this was different, somehow, from even those. For just that moment, Charlie seemed so focused on the simple task of removing the leaves without pulling her hair. It was an almost child-like focus…until he caught her watching. And that was even more foreign – their gazes met and held for several long, rather awkward moments in which neither seemed to know where to look or how to move (forward or back?).

"Um…" Shay caught her lower lip between her teeth and looked away, back to the fire. "Thank you."

"No problem." Charlie's voice was gruff, and Shay sneaked a glance at him from the corner of her eyes. He was staring resolutely at the fire, his expression inscrutable until the rest of the handlers came through the trees. His features quickly rearranged themselves to something resembling composure.

"Alright, then," he said, jumping to his feet. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

* * *

The Task came more quickly than Shay could have imagined possible. And Hogwarts seemed transformed. Excitement had taken over, bubbling over an underlying tension. Hogwarts students, and even some staff, had been split. Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory both had loyal followings, though Shay rather thought Diggor's side was stronger. Or, at least, more visible.

While the handlers had needed to be on hand in case of emergency, Shay was allowed to sit in the bleachers along with the Weasleys, who had come to see Charlie. Luna Lovegood was sitting on her other side, completely oblivious to the noise of the crowd. She had even fashioned an elaborate pair of dragon wings for the occasion, which were thankfully somehow folded against her back.

Finally, a whistle blew – the first task was officially set to begin. Ludo Bagman appeared, running into the enclosure to take up his post as announcer. Without further ado, the games had begun. Cedric Diggory was the first to perform.

The Swedish Short-Snout Cedric was up against had been one of the more interesting ones Shay had come across. It wasn't exactly unreceptive, but it was rather dumb. It tended to change its mind at the slightest provocation, and was known to be distracted by things that were extraordinarily shiny. There really wasn't much in its head but instinct, which had made communication a rather lost cause.

At first, Shay couldn't tell what the boy was doing. He seemed to be taking in the sight of the rocks around him, then eyeing up the dragon. Suddenly, he pointed is wand at a nearby rock, Transfiguring it into a Labrador Retriever that sprang up with a bark. Tail wagging it raced away, catching the dragon's attention as it dove among the rocks. The bluish-grey creature turned to the dog, preparing to blow a jet of fire at it until…it decided that Cedric was the real threat. With a growl so sudden it caused several in the audience to jump, the short-nosed dragon whirled around to face the oncoming wizard. Cedric noticed and broke into a sprint, leaving the dragon staring in confusion at the place where Cedric had just been. When it realized what had happened it let out an infuriated roar and dove for the running boy, who snatched up his prize egg and darted away just in time. The whistle sounded, ending the first round of the First Task.

The Beauxbatons champion, facing the Welsh Green (the granddaughter of Dracul, as it turned out) tried to perform some kind of spell Shay didn't recognize, attempting to put the dragon into a trance. Which, as Shay had learned through bitter experience, was next to impossible if you didn't have a handy spare flask of Sleeping Draught on you. The dragon had sneezed a jet of flame, igniting the poor girl's skirt. Shay turned her laughter into a cough, but noticed the amused glance of Mrs. Weasley.

But really, who wore a skirt to a Triwizard Task?

It was Viktor Krum's round which caused Shay's blood to boil – almost immediately, and with a totally expressionless face, he cast a spell that went flying right into the dragon's eye. The Chinese Fireball, an extremely clever creature and fiercely protective of anything it deemed its belongings, went tramping around the enclosure in agony. Shrieking and blowing smoke, it managed to smash several of the real eggs.

Shay could have spit fire herself.

"Excuse me," Shay said to the Weasleys and Luna, "But I should go see if I can be of some help."

This dragon had been one of her favorites, an intelligent, brave creature with a gift for human language. It had "spoken" its first word ("Food?") just before they'd had to leave for Hogwarts.

"Shay, is that you?" Charlie was craning his neck above the other Handlers as they attempted to contain the raging dragon.

"Yeah," she called back, "I'm coming. That idiot boy, what I wouldn't do to…"

One look at the dragon, hunkered down in its restraints and covering its face with its wings, made Shay's face soften.

"Oh, sweet," she murmured, approaching slowly. "What did he do to you?"

Eggs, was all the dragon could think. Eggs, eggs, eggs. The unspoken word preceding was "my." My eggs, the dragon wanted to wail. It just didn't have the words. My eggs, my eggs, my eggs. They were gone, and the dragon didn't understand why.

"I know," Shay murmured. "I'm so sorry, beauty. I know it hurts."

The dragon peered at Shay over one of its wings as the crowd grew louder.

"Ignore that, okay?" Shay said firmly. "Ignore it. They don't matter. Now, come on…let's get you some food and then you can sleep on the way home."

The dragon looked interested at the thought of food, and near to happy at the idea of going home. One of the handlers tossed the Chinese Fireball meat laced with Sleeping Draught, the large dose of which took effect almost immediately. Several handlers set to work on healing the dragon's eye before they conjured the crate around her. Shay didn't notice her fists were clenched and shaking until Charlie pointed it out.

"I could have killed that boy," she told Charlie darkly. "I could have murdered him for that. I know, I know, those eggs didn't have baby dragons in them, but she didn't know that…"

Charlie, somehow, was grinning.

"What?" Shay snapped, swiping hair from her face with one hand. The other was propped on her hip.

"How in the world were you not Sorted into Gryffindor?"

Shay, reluctantly, smiled. "Too rational, I guess."

"Or something," Charlie said, eyes shining in the enclosure's dramatic lighting. The sudden, murmuring quiet alerted them to the fact that the Task was over. Harry Potter, they were soon told, had tied for first with Krum. Glancing at Shay when this news reached them, Charlie half-smiled at the expression on her face.

"Don't worry," he said, "Harry will squash him, next time."

Shay nodded dumbly. Charlie simply grinned.

"I'll see you later," he said, checking quickly to see that the handlers had managed to successfully wrangle all of the dragons back into crates. "I want to tell Harry, and then I've got to owl my mum, I promised I'd tell her what happened…"

"Yeah, of course," Shay replied. "I'll see you back at the Three Broomsticks."


	14. Expecto Patronum

**((Oh, my lovely readers and reviewers! How I love you. Once again, thank you so much.  
I really enjoyed writing this chapter. It was...wow. It was kind of draining to write, but I loved it. I'm actually pretty proud of this, so I hope you enjoy it. : ) Things are going to get pretty crazy/exciting from here on out. Here's where the actual action starts. So, without further delay...enjoy the chapter!))  
**

The night following the first task was filled with Butterbeer and Firewhiskey. The Three Broomsticks witnessed a night that was even noisier than usual, as jubilant dragon keepers celebrated the success of their endeavor. The following morning (or, more accurately, afternoon) the keepers had assembled in Hogsmeade, and Disapparated to Romania. The following day had been sluggish and slow, as those keepers who had consumed a little too much Firewhiskey worked through their headaches. Now, months later, Shay was dealing with a different kind of headache – an injured Charlie Weasley.

It wasn't that Charlie was demanding or obnoxious as an invalid. Just that he was unconscious and, since he was the one running their little experiment, it left Shay with very little to do – Claire, with an evil look in her eye that Shay didn't quite understand, had assigned her to "look after Charlie," though what there was to do for someone who was unconscious Shay didn't quite know. But his roommate had been reassigned, sent off for special work at a different reserve, and Shay wasn't necessary to the function of this place. So a temporary reassignment had seemed to be in order.  
At least, such had been Claire's excuse. Although now that Charlie was waking up for hours at a time, that excuse had lost some of its original strength.

Yet, Shay still found herself standing at Charlie's kitchen window, paying a delivery owl for The Daily Prophet. She yawned and squinted into the morning sun, barely glancing at the paper she tossed onto the table until she had the chance to pour two mugs of tea.

"Mornin'."

Shay turned from the counter to see Charlie, his hair sticking up on all ends, bleary-eyed. He'd dressed, but his shirt was on slightly crooked, and he was wearing neither socks nor shoes.

"You look like you had a losing fight with a hippogriff," she told him, setting the mug down in front of him. "Your hair is getting long."

"Is it?" Charlie ran a hand cautiously through his hair. "I hadn't noticed, next to the blood."

Shay winced – there had been an accident involving a young Norwegian Ridgeback, which had left Charlie with a wound at the back of his head, near his neck.

"I could cut it for you," she said, looking down into her half-empty mug. "That is…if you want."

"Yeah," Charlie replied after an uncomfortable pause. "Yeah, that sounds…er, that's good. Thanks."

Shay nodded and summoned a pair of scissors – she didn't trust herself to attempt this by magic, figuring she might accidentally chop off more than hair. Soon, the only sound was that of the scissors – strands of red hair fell, scattering the floor near Shay's feet.

"There we go," Shay said when she had finished, running her fingers through the recently-cut hair. "Much better, don't you…"

Charlie had grabbed her wrist, gently, his fingers wrapping entirely around it. Shay's breath caught, her mind caught. Only her pulse seemed to be working, and that in overtime. It was rushing so fast that she was very nearly dizzy. And now Charlie was standing, standing right in front of her, and she couldn't remember that happening at all…  
Everything was confusing, and Shay didn't know where to look.

She opened her mouth, meaning to speak, but forgot what it was she had meant to say as Charlie brushed an errant strand of hair back behind her ear. Shay gulped, and was sure Charlie noticed…he was smirking.

"I…I don't…"

"Shh," Charlie said, his nose brushing against hers. Shay jumped, unaware that they had suddenly gotten so much closer. And then closer still. In a moment, before she could process anything that had happened until this point, Charlie Weasley was kissing her. His hands weren't soft. They had suffered too many burns, cuts, and callouses to ever be soft again. But they were gentle, one hand holding her close by the curve of her waist, the other in her hair just at the back of her head. Shay's hands had come up instinctively upon her surprise at their proximity, and so had been pressed against his chest at the beginning of this kiss. Only now did she have the presence od mind to slide one up, hesitantly, to rest where his neck met his shoulder. Like every silly novel, every stereotype of such a moment, Shay did not know how long the kiss had lasted. It could have been moments or minutes, hours or days. Time had stopped and rushed ahead, all at once. All she knew was that when they did, finally, end the kiss, Charlie was smiling.

In fact, she'd never seen his smile quite so broad.

She blushed and looked down, preparing for an awkward separation, preparing to stumble around the kitchen as if nothing had happened. This did not appear to be Charlie's plan. The hand that had simply held her waist was now pressed against her back, arm around her waist, holding her close. The other hand tugged gently at a curl that had been sitting on her shoulder just a moment ago. Charlie's forehead still rested against Shay's. She wasn't, it appeared, going anywhere.

"I'd say I'm sorry," he said softly. Shay could feel the leftover air from his breath skittering across her skin. "But I'm not."

She couldn't help but laugh. It was so typically Charlie.

"I'm not…not, either." She whispered.

"Good. Then I guess you won't mind if I do this?"

He kissed her again, quickly, on the lips. "or this?" On her neck, right by her ear. "Or this?" Her nose.

Shay, uncharacteristically, giggled.

"No," she said.

"Good. You have no idea how long I've been thinking about doing that."

Shay must have looked startled, because Charlie chuckled. "Don't tell me you didn't notice. I'm not exactly subtle. With anything."

"No, I noticed…I mean, I _thought_ that…" Shay paused, pressing her lips together. She wrinkled her nose. "You're confusing me, Charlie Weasley."

Charlie laughed.

"Am I still on sick leave, then?"

Shay nodded, and Charlie threaded the fingers of one of his hands with those of one of hers, tugging her toward the small sitting room.

"Wait!" Shay laughed, giddy with adrenaline and confusion and the remnants of air shortage, "the mail."

"The mail," Charlie scoffed, "here we just share an important moment, and she's looking for the mail."

Shay laughed, snatched the envelopes and Prophet from the table, and then, still shyly, rejoined their hands.

"Life goes on," she said. Charlie rolled his eyes and led her to one of the wide, comfortable armchairs in front of his small fireplace. He sat, then tugged Shay onto his lap. With surprising grace, she fell into it. His arms were around his waist in a moment, his face (rather distractingly) pressed into her hair, against her neck. There was a featherlight kiss on the skin there, which sent goosebumps waving up her arms.

"I can't even open this," she whispered unsteadily.

"That was the idea."

Shay twisted around until she was facing Charlie. The look in his eyes made her suddenly shy again.

"Just let me read this," she said, finally smiling. "We have all the time in the world, after all."

"Fine," Charlie said, faking irritation as he rested his chin on her shoulder. His voice became suddenly low. "But you'll be lucky if I let you out of my sight for a moment, then."

Shay could hardly be held responsible for the silly grin that had taken its place across her face. She dutifully sorted through the letters in her hands, passing Charlie letters (which he ignored, stacking them loosely on the floor by the side of the chair) and opening her own. Cat's letter from Hogwarts caused her to stiffen.

"What is it?" Charlie asked. "Shay?"

She was trembling, she knew it, could feel it, but couldn't stop it. Unable to form the words, she passed the letter to Charlie. She knew he would find the line as quickly as she had.

"Cedric Diggory is dead. Harry Potter says You-Know Who is back, like before. Shay, I'm so scared." She knew the moment he'd found it. The letter had fallen to the ground, and he was scrambling to get his own letters without unseating Shay. Finally, with a mumbled curse, he gave up and summoned the letter into his hand. He read it quickly the first time through and then, again, more slowly.

"He's back," he said finally, voice hoarse. "It's actually happened."

The happiness that had been following them since the kiss was slowly giving way to a pressing, stifling fear. Shay, still hesitant on this new territory, leaned against Charlie, rested her head against his shoulder. Her fingers questioningly traced the line of his jaw, the skin of his cheek, as if unsure if they were really allowed there at all. Charlie's eyes closed, muscles relaxed. He leaned into the touch for the duration of a few breaths before catching her hand in his own. He traced circles against her skin with a calloused thumb. Shay could tell he was beating away fears, knew he'd lost family to the last Wizarding War. Two uncles, he'd told her once. He'd only been about nine, but he remembered it, remembered the unbearable sadness it had caused his mother.

'It'll be alright," she whispered, squeezing the fingers that entrapped her own. "Promise."

The "promise" made him smile.

"I hope you're right," he said, tipping his head to rest it against hers.

"Of course I am."

Struck by the heaviness of the fear and doubt, the leftover sadness, Shay raised her wand and summoned the feelings that had surrounded them after the kiss. Her "expecto patronum" was whispered, but the spell was no less strong. She could feel Charlie smile – her Patronus, which had once been a silvery lynx, was now much larger and much more reptilian. The dragon circled them once and then vanished through the window and into the sky.

"Promise," Shay repeated, closing her eyes and ignoring the hubbub arising from the reserve as more and more handlers finally got around to reading their Daily Prophets.

You-Know-who was back, Shay was sure. Charlie believed it, and Charlie knew Harry Potter. And Shay trusted Charlie.  
You-Know-Who was back, and if things were going to be anything like she'd heard they'd been, before, there were going to be far less quiet, happy moments like this to enjoy.


	15. Dracul

**((And so, Chapter 15 - AmandatheBookworm, your comment in the reviews about wanting longer dragon chapters actually inspired some of this. I realized that I did need to establish her experience with that communication for oncoming chapters. **

**Thanks, once again, for the reviews! I appreciate them all so much. ))**

It was amazing how quickly the atmosphere of the reserve changed, following the news. Immediately, lines seemed to have been drawn with people on either side. Some argued that this was real, that there was no doubt about it. Some said that it was all a load of nonsense, and that everything would continue on, just as it had been. And then there were those who didn't have much of an opinion at all, preferring to stay away from the argument entirely.  
Charlie and Shay, at least, were members of the first group.

It hadn't taken much to convince either of them. Cat had believed it immediately, following the final Task. And, if Cat trusted too easily, there was Charlie's entire family to back it up.

"There's no reason not to believe him," Charlie had said. "Not to mention the fact that Dumbledore believes him."

Shay, though she'd had her doubts at the beginning, had come to agree. And why in the world would someone who had nearly been killed by the dark wizard lie about his return?

Charlie and Shay had begun to spend most of their free time together, and some of their working time as well - they had jumped straight back into their work with the dragons, following Charlie's recovery. And, just as Charlie had warned her, the entire Reserve soon knew about them. Though Claire swore she'd said nothing, Shay had her suspicions that she was, in fact, the origin. And, while neither of them was anything less than professional during work hours, they could often be seen with laced fingers, or with Charlie's arm around Shay's waist. They were the subject of conversation for days after the majority of the Reserve had gotten past the tragedy of the Cup. Now, the nearly-famous couple was tucked away in the den of the Welsh Green. Or, to put it more accurately, Charlie was tucked away. Shay was working.

"You're really a help, you know," Shay huffed, glaring at Charlie. He was sitting on the floor of the tunnel, leaning against the wall and reading, for some reason, _Quidditch Through the Ages_.

"Yep," Charlie replied absently, turning a page. "Whatever you say."

"Oh, very funny," Shay said, uncertain whether to be amused or offended. "Who taught you that one?"

"Er...my dad, actually," Charlie said. He looked up at Shay and smiled crookedly.

"You're lucky you're cute," Shay muttered, turning back to the magic barrier. "Take this thing down, would you?"

"Don't you have a wand?"

"Charlie Weasley, stop being childish and help me!" Shay said, actually stamping her foot into the packed earth of the floor. Charlie smiled crookedly, blue eyes flashing.

"Did you actually just do that?"

Shay didn't answer, except to glare. Charlie raised his hands in surrender.

"Alright!" He said. "Alright. Here." He waved his wand and the barrier ceased to exist. Shay rolled her eyes and stepped over Charlie's legs and into the dragon's den. The Welsh Green, Dracul, had been the most successful subject of their little experiment by a long shot. Once Shay had overcome her initial shock, and with some coaxing from Charlie, the dragon had been quite amenable to their efforts.

It was mostly selfish. Shay knew this - she wasn't stupid. This particular dragon was about as curious about humans as these humans were about him. It was this curiosity that had led to his attempt at language, and this curiosity that kept him from killing Shay and Charlie whenever they entered his den.

"Hello," Shay murmured, still cautious as she approached the dragon's huge front feet. He lowered his head and blew a gust of faintly-too-hot steam into her face. Shay coughed. It was a greeting, as she had figured out, but that didn't make it any less unpleasant. In fact, it was more or less the direct opposite of walking through a Hogwarts ghost. Much the same sensation, only hot rather than cold.

Having survived the ordeal of saying hello to Dracul, Shay settled down cross-legged on a gold-tasseled velvet cushion. She'd found it in one of their previous "conferences," and Dracul had allowed her use of it. Under the condition that no harm came to it, which, of course, Shay had readily promised. With a bellowing sigh that would have sent Shay's hair flying, had it not been tightly pulled back, the dragon settled down in front of her. His head was inches from her knees, chin resting on the ground. His eyes were an odd color, predominantly gold with a cat-like slit of a pupil. But surrounding that pupil was a ringed spike of purple, shooting off into the gold like a firework.

"So," Shay murmured, watching the dragon. "Why is it that you can talk to me, and the others can't?"

_Know this already_, the dragon replied. _You guessed._

Its English wasn't exactly the best, Shay had to admit. But it was better than nothing.

_Can't speak,_ the dragon continued._ Or don't want to._

"Well, yes," Shay said, "But is that it?"

The dragon didn't understand. It lifted a lip in a snarl that wasn't threatening, but frustrated.

"I mean," she clarified, "That some of the others can, but they don't...realize it. I can tell."

The dragon simply watched her, tilting its head to allow better view of the girl.

_You're on odd one, hatchling_, he said. His "voice" was almost fond.

"So I've been told. I guess what I'm asking, Dracul, is...does it matter the breed of dragon? Are Welsh Greens, like you, more liable to talk than, say, a..."

_Welsh Green?_ The dragon looked amused. _What is that?_

"What do y-" Shay cut herself off, then chuckled. "Sorry. I didn't...you wouldn't really separate yourself into breeds, do you? I suppose that answers that question."

_Colors_, the dragon said._ Place, sometimes._

"What are you, then?" Shay asked "According to dragons, I mean."

_I am a green mountain dragon,_ he replied. The voice that spoke to Shay was cool and smooth. It reminded Shay vaguely of peppermint, if voices could have taste.

"What about...males and females?" Shay ventured. "Does that make a difference."

_Yes_, Dracul said without preamble._ Females won't. Unless very young or very old. Before egg-time and after it, see?_

"Yes," Shay said. "It makes sense, I think. And...age?"

_Older dragons talk_, Dracul said. _Small dragons will learn. Young and middle? No._

That eliminated a substantial amount of dragons from their test. Shay sighed and leaned her head toward her shoulder, stretching her neck. Dracul raised his head, matching his gaze with the human girl's.

_Your mate is worried_, the dragon said, eyes flickering over Shay's shoulder. She turned and caught sight of an admittedly tense Charlie.

"Not my mate," she whispered. "Humans don't necessarily...er...work like that."

Whether or not the dragon actually understood this or simply didn't want to discuss it any further, he simply lowered his head again, resting it on elegantly crossed forefeet.

_He has no trust for dragons_, Dracul said. He did not seem offended, Shay was glad to observe. He was simply stating a fact.

"It's not that..."

_He thinks I will eat you_, The Welsh Green said._ I can see. In eyes._ He yawned, displaying gleaming teeth.

"I don't think you're helping," Shay noted. If dragons could chuckle, this one certainly would have. Instead, he simply looked amused.

_I would never eat you, hatchling_, he said._ I like you._

"Well," Shay said, "That's probably because I didn't run at you, waving a wand."

Dracul snorted his agreement.

_Why?_ he asked suddenly.

"Excuse me?"

_Why do they hurt us with the wands?_

Shay sighed, arranging a whisp of hair back into its knot.

"Because they're frightened," Shay said. "And, Dracul, don't be offended, but...they have every right to be. Your kind have killed many of us."

_For same reason,_ Dracul retorted. He lifted his head and rested it on Shay's lap, looking up at her with his enormous eyes. In the background, Shay could hear Charlie stand and walk toward the door. She was sure he'd have drawn his wand.

"It's alright, Charlie," she called. "He's alright."

But her hands were still shaking when she rested one on his head. His scales were smooth as marble, and cool to the touch. Hard as any metal, too, and strong - it was evident just by touching them.

"It's all because of fear, then?"

_Our fault, though_, the dragon admitted. We liked being big - bigger than you, and more powerful. There were more of us, once. More than wizards. And we liked to rule. Treasure and power, dragons love.

"People, too, sometimes," Shay murmured.

_Yes. But dragons...did not know boundaries. The Old Ones wanted sacrifice. Maidens. Young ones. And still wanted to take flocks, too. And then the wizards gained power. And defended with magic. And then the wars began._

"Wars?"

_Not like your thought,_ the dragon said. He sighed and closed his eyes. Rivalry. Enmity. _Are those right words? Constant battle. Things are better, now. Not right. But better_.

"Do you miss it?" Shay asked tentatively. "The mountains? You didn't hatch here, did you?"

**_No._** The word rumbled through Shay's mind, loud enough to cause a headache. But it was not anger, not toward her. It was longing. And it made Shay's throat constrict with sympathy.

"Show me," she managed to whisper. The dragon growled, lifted his head, and with all the gentleness possible of a giant magical reptile, touched his snout to Shay's forehead. She put her hands on either side of his nose, feeling the rush of warmth beneath the scales here.

And then, she was flying. Flying over mountains veined with snow. The air was crisp, and clearer than she'd ever breathed.

_Home,_ Dracul told her. And...

They swept through the clouds and then they were skimming low over rolling green, dipping over shimmering water. Beneath them, flocks of sheep bleated with vague, unvoiced fear. But the dragon was not here to eat. They flew over, landing amongst moss-colored stones that still smelled, ever so faintly, of humans and battle and long-since-dried blood. Hidden beneath Dracul's claws were stores of gold, his own, hidden so deep and protected with so much magic that only a dragon or maybe a goblin could ever find it. They took off again, sure that the treasure was secure. Shay almost thought she could hear her name on the wind as they climbed up into the heavy grey clouds above. There was a stinging, invigorating press of cold moisture and then they were through, soaring above the clouds, now, just as rain was released onto the land below. Thunder rumbled but it sounded distant, and didn't concern them, anyway. And still, the wind was whispering Shay's name.

They circled over the clouds and dove back through, back over the mountains, and then Shay was sitting on the red velvet cushion, holding the dragon's head between her hands, and blinking. She felt as if she'd been sleepwalking, and someone had unadvisedly woken her. It took a moment to remember where she was, and another to hear someone desperately calling her name. The dragon's eyes were just in front of hers, content and understanding as he moved his head away from hers. The moment girl and dragon were no longer connected, Shay felt as if she had been attacked by a Bludger. The same force grabbed her arms and dragged her away, shouted the spell to re-establish the barrier, and shook Shay's shoulders. Charlie's eyes were caught somewhere between anger and desperation.

"What the hell was that?" Charlie demanded.

"Charlie, would you please calm down, I..."

"CALM DOWN?" Charlie bellowed. She'd never heard him so loud, so angry. Charlie's anger, frustration, always simmered. This was an explosion. "You expect me to calm down? Shay, he...it...could've...could've killed you. And I couldn't get to you, and you were...you looked...paralyzed, and I...damn it."

Charlie spun away from Shay, slamming a fist into the wall. After that he was so still that he coulld've been a statue.

"Charlie..."

However angry he was, Shay wasn't afraid of him. Wasn't afraid of his anger. He'd barely even killed flies while she'd known him,even preferring to capture and release spiders rather than swatting them to death. "Charlie, it's alright, I...I'm alright." She slipped in front of him, placing a hand on either side of his face. "I'm alright," she murmured, raising herself up onto her toes to press her forehead against his. He moved suddenly, wrapping both arms around her and holding her almost-too-tightly.

"I couldn't get to you," Charlie repeated. "There was some...some kind of shield or something, I don't know. But nothing I did could get through it. I tried every damn thing I could think of."

"But I was okay," Shay said into Charlie's shoulder, pulling away just enough to see his face. "He wasn't hurting me."

"I couldn't see that," Charlie said, his eyes steady on hers. "I couldn't tell. And I couldn't just..."

"Charlie..."

"I've never felt so powerless in my life," he said. "I thought I was going to watch him devour you, and there would be nothing I could do."

"He wouldn't."

"Shay, he's a dragon, he..."

"He's had a million chances to hurt me, Charlie, and he hasn't. I trust him. And he told me things, Charlie, about dragons...wait until you hear..."

She could see that he wasn't convinced of Dracul's trustworthiness, still hadn't quite gotten over the fright he'd had, and wasn't nearly as interested in such information as he would normally have been.

"Charlie," Shay murmured - his eyes had drifted over her shoulder, staring at the wall with a faraway expression. "Charlie, it's over. I'm fine. I'm here." It would have been amusing, if Charlie hadn't been so clearly affected by whatever had just happened. There was nothing else for it - Shay leaned forward and kissed him. "I'm alright," she whispered for what felt like the millionth time. Finally, Charlie looked at her - actually looked at her, not with some distant, thoughtful expression.

"I know," he said. He pulled her back to him and buried his face in her hair. "What did he tell you?" He asked, his voice muffled. Shay smiled, listening to Charlie's heartbeat, the sound of air going in and out of his lungs.

"That we have to eliminate about half of our test subjects," she said. Charlie groaned, seeming to return to his normal self.

"You've got to be joking."

"Nope." Shay pulled back, looking up at Charlie. "Any dragon that's young or middle-aged probably won't listen. Older ones can definitely speak, younger ones will learn, although males are more likely to listen in the middle stages than females are. Something about the eggs. And..."

"And," Charlie interrupted, taking her hand and tugging her toward the exit, "What happened at the end, there?"

"He...he took me to his home, kind of," Shay said. "It was kind of like a Penseive, really. His memory of a flight over the mountains, and then to this ruin where he kept treasure protected. All he did was..."

"Place his fangs altogether too close to your head? Yes, I saw that."

"Charlie. Let it go. I'm..."

"Alright, yes, you told me. Not so sure about my own mental health, though..."

"Oh, you big baby, you're just fine," Shay informed him, earning a small smile as they came upon the stairs Shay still hated. They emerged into a cool twilight, where they found a horned owl waiting for them in a nearby tree. It landed on the arm Charlie extended for it, holding out its leg. An envelope contained the distinctive handwriting of Albus Dumbledore.

"What's this?" He muttered. The owl took off, leaving Shay and Charlie standing alone in the middle of the darkening reserve.

"Lumos," Shay murmured as Charlie wrestled the letter from the envelope.

"Thanks," he said, scanning the letter quickly. He let out his breath in a rush. "Dumbledore," he said, though Shay had already guessed as much. "Dumbledore's bringing back the Order of the Phoenix."

She looked up at him, and her own determination was reflected in his eyes.

"I want to join, too," she said.

"Shay, I don't think..." he sighed, folded the letter and returned it to its envelope. "I mean that it'll be dangerous, and..."  
"You think I don't know that? I do. Charlie, this isn't...this is You-Know-Who we're talking about. He could ruin everything, destroy everything we love, of course I'm joining. And honestly, I love you, but you can't stop me, and why in the world are you smiling like that?"

"You just said you love me."

Shay tilted her head to the side, confused.

"Of course I do, you goose, you know that."

"Well, yes, but you've...we've...never said it before."

"Oh..." Shay turned slightly pink.

"But I think," Charlie continued, "that maybe we should start." He folded the envelope and slipped it into a pocket. "Which is why I wanted to give you this." Charlie pulled a small, faded blue pouch from his pocket. He opened it and tilted something into his palm. "My father bought this for my mother while they were in Hogwarts," he said. "He gave it to her the first time he told her he loved her. I told mum about you, about us, and she sent it to me by owl." He held up a simple gold chain, from which there hung a pendant in the shape of a lion's head. Its mane was red-gold, its eyes two glinting flecks of jet. Its mouth was open in a roar.

"It's beautiful," Shay breathed, catching the pendant on her palm. She turned around, pulling her braided hair over one shoulder.

"I know you were a Ravenclaw," Charlie said, and Shay wondered why he thought he needed to sound apologetic. "But they were both in Gryffindor..."

"And I've got a lion protecting me," Shay said, smiling brightly as she turned to face Charlie again. The pendant gleamed just below the hollow of her throat. "I love it."

"And I love you," Charlie said, nearly beaming. Somewhere, thunder rumbled, causing both to jump. "Let's go," Charlie said, grabbing Shay's hand, "Before it starts raining on us. We can worry about this Order stuff, later."

It was so strong, their illusion of having all the time in the world. So they ran, laughing, hands clasped, back to Charlie's for tea and escape from the rain.


	16. And So it Begins

**((...It has been far, far too long since I updated this. If you're still with me, thank you for your patience. Thanks, once again, for the reviews - now that I'm settled into college life, I should be able to submit chapters a bit more frequently...if the work load doesn't get any crazier than it already is...yay for going to one of the most rigorous schools in the nation...? Anyway, this is honestly just a bit of fluff and fun, but should set the stage for the general trajectory of this. Hope you enjoy it! )) **

"Charlie?"

Shay stood quickly, blinking sleep from her eyes, peering through the half-lit kitchen. The door had swung open about six inches, and rain was falling through the gap.  
"It's alright, it's just me."

"Charlie, what…"

"I may need some help here, love."

Shay released her grip on her wand, letting it fall back to the table beside her as she dashed toward the door, nearly slipping on the floor where the rain had slicked it to waxy slipperiness. She pulled the door open and Charlie blew in with the wind and the rain and fell into a kitchen chair, dripping water from his cloak.

"Charlie, what happened?" Shay asked, trying not to let panic fray her voice as she fought with the wind to close the door.

"It's nothing, Shay," Charlie said. "I'm a little chilled, that's all."

Shay turned, leaning against the finally-closed door.

"Charlie, don't you dare lie to me."

"I'm…"

"That is not the whole story, and I know you know I know that."

"English, please?" Charlie said with a weak chuckle. Shay's glare, however, was unrelenting. Charlie sighed and dropped his head.

"It…didn't exactly go well," he said, and hitched up the leg of his pants to show a nasty-looking gash swiping down his leg. Shay inhaled sharply, but had the presence of mind to turn and retrieve her wand from the other room. She'd had to learn many healing spells in order to gain her position on the farm, and though they hadn't said it, she was sure that her proficiency in them had helped her to gain her position on the reserve. Following the spell, Charlie's skin began to knit itself back together, still an angry red but no longer freely bleeding.

"You'll have a nice scar, there," Shay said when she had finished. She pocketed her wand and stood, leaning close to Charlie in order to take his cloak. It was still dripping rain water - Shay wrinkled her nose at it as she hung it in front of the fire.  
"You're soaked to the skin," she murmured, returning to the kitchen where Charlie still sat. She ran her fingers through his sopping-wet hair, unable to help the gentle, sleepy smile that crept across her face as Charlie's eyes slipped closed. "Don't fall asleep yet, love, you'll get sick with all of these wet clothes. Go get changed, okay?"  
Charlie nodded and shuffled off into the bedroom. Shay could hear him rustling through drawers. She boiled water magically, to make it happen just a bit faster, and had a large mug of tea waiting when Charlie reappeared.

"Charlie..."

"What?"

Bits of his hair were still dripping water onto Charlie's shoulders. "Oh," he blinked as a drip hit his neck. "That."

"Sit down, silly man," Shay instructed. Charlie all but fell into the chair again. Shay directed a jet of warm air from her wand onto Charlie's head, and combed through his hair with her fingers until it was finally dry.

"Better?" She asked. Charlie nodded.

"A bit," he replied, then yawned, making no attempt to stifle it.

"As much as I want to know what happened, I think it's high time you slept," Shay said. Charlie looked up at her gratefully.

"Come with me?" He asked softly, taking her hand.

"Charlie, I...I mean, I just...we've talked about this..."

"What? No. Shay, no, I just mean..." he raised her hand up and pressed his lips to her knuckles. "I just don't want to be alone, right now, love. That's all."

The look in his eyes was what made Shay agree - the aftermath of hardly-contained fear striking her the most.

"I also don't want you out in all of that," Charlie said, gesturing to the window. Shay shook her head, but laughed.  
"Alright, alright," she said. "You win."  
Charlie grinned a lopsided, sleepy grin.  
"Come on, then," he said, tugging her gently down the hall. He released her hand when they came to the doorway and collapsed onto his bed. Shay stood in the doorway for a moment, tugging the sleeves of her shirt down over her fingers.  
"Shay? Come on."  
He sounded as if he was close to sleep already. Shay took a few hesitating steps toward the bed and crawled in next to Charlie. He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, tangling their feet together. With his other hand he pulled the blankets up over both of them.

"Warm enough?"

"Mmhmm."

Almost on instinct, Shay nestled her head under Charlie's chin, the warmth and feeling of safety, as well as the uncomfortable hour or so of sleep she'd gotten at the kitchen table making her sleepy, as well. Charlie sighed a deep, contented sigh.

"Better?" Shay whispered.  
Charlie chuckled, then kissed the top of her head.

"Much," he was asleep within moments, his breathing deep and even, the arm around Shay's waist relaxed. Shay fell asleep to the steady rise and fall of his chest and the sound of his heartbeat close to her ear.

* * *

"Well I have to say, this is not what I was expecting to find..."

Shay blinked at the sudden burst of sunlight that blasted into the room and Clifford's very amused voice. She tried to sit up, but Charlie's arm around her waist was holding her in place.

"Go away," Charlie muttered, eyes closed but clearly awake, "We're trying to sleep, here."

"I can see that," Clifford replied, raising an eyebrow at Shay. She smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "Glad to see you're both dressed, by the way. Are you planning on working today, Weasley, or what?"

"Yeah, yeah," Charlie said. "I have plenty of unused sick time, leave me alone."

"Charlie," Shay muttered, "be nice."

"Sorry."

Clifford shook his head.

"Fine, then," he said. "Sleep all day, see if I care."

"Just because you used up all of your sick days..." Charlie muttered. Clifford rolled his eyes and left, the door shutting a bit too forcefully behind him. Shay looked up at Charlie, who seemed to be doing his best to get back to sleep.

"Charlie."

"Mmm."

"Charlie!"

Finally, his eyes opened.

"Mornin'," he said, reaching up with the hand that had been around her waist to run his fingers through her hair. He leaned in and kissed her, and for a moment Shay was distracted enough to forget what it was she'd wanted to ask. Finally, the thought returned and she pushed Charlie away gently.

"Charlie." She said a third time, firmly. He winced.

"You're going to make me talk, aren't you?"

"Of course I am - you came home bleeding last night, Charlie Weasley. From a mission you would tell me nothing about..."

"Because I couldn't! Shay..."

"Hush. Charlie, please. Tell me what happened?"

Charlie sighed and for several long, silent moments, Shay thought he might refuse to speak.

"We went out into the countryside to look for someone," Charlie said. "I can't tell you who, Shay. I wish I could. Suffice it to say, he's a very powerful wizard that would have been an asset to the Order."

Shay nodded, understanding yet still not liking the secrecy.

"We got there and the house was in ruins," Charlie said. He took a rather unsteady breath, and buried his face against Shay's shoulder, just at the base of her neck. "It was terrible, Shay. When we went in. Blood everywhere. They were all dead, the whole household, torn to shreds...it went beyond Avada Kedavra. We found a wand that had used the killing curse, so it was clearly the cause of death, but then they'd...mutilated them. And then, just as we were clearing out, we were attacked. They were everywhere, they hadn't left, and there were spells shooting everywhere. We fired back as best we could...one of our number got hit with some awful slicing spell, there was blood everywhere, he almost didn't make it back..." Charlie fell silent, and all Shay could do was wait.

"It was awful," Charlie said. "When it was finished, I stuck around to help clear up. And then, of course, I was too...distracted...to Apparate, and I got stuck in that awful storm. I was so glad to hear your voice, Shay, I can't even tell you how glad..."

For a long time they sat in the still, silent room, letting the memories of last night wash over them. Charlie drifted off to sleep again but Shay couldn't follow. She propped herself up on her elbow and watched him for a moment with a puzzled smile - how she got here, sleeping next to Charlie Weasley, was a mystery to her. How she'd spent so long on the reserve - over a year, by now - was even more difficult to believe. Extracting herself from her own thoughts, Shay carefully got up and left the room without waking Charlie. Barefoot, she padded into the kitchen where Turnip was waiting impatiently at the window.

"Sorry, 'Nip," She said as she opened the window. The owl hooted unhappily, but nibbled affectionately at Shay's knuckle, anyway.  
"I'll make it up to you," Shay told him, "Promise."

Aside from her usual correspondence with Oliver, (who was now playing Quidditch for Puddlemere United...and who was still with his former Chaser, Katie Bell, who he wrote to and visited fairly regularly, when his Quidditch schedule allowed.) there was a letter from Cat and a note from Luna Lovegood. Both were cause for concern.

_She gave Sarah Everwood detention last week, Cat wrote of the new Defense teacher. And Sarah came back to the Common Room crying, with words carved into her hand - Umbridge made her write lines with a quill that used her blood for ink! She's awful, Shay, really. I've never had a worse teacher. And she doesn't teach anything, we don't even use wands in her class..._

Thankfully, it didn't seem that Cat had garnered any attention, good or bad, from this new professor. Shay unfolded Luna's letter, next.

_...Daddy says it's nothing but an infestation of Nargles, but I'm not so sure. Anyway, we have a new Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, but she doesn't really do much, you know, and she doesn't believe in the existence of..._  
Shay shook her head at the listing of unlikely magical creatures, and scanned down the message.  
_I can't tell you much, because I think the mail is being read...I got a letter with a broken seal the other day, but I'm making friends with some Gryffindors, which is lovely, you know. Anyway, I thought you'd enjoy this photo...hope to see you soon!_

Shay tipped the envelope, and a small photograph slipped into her hand. It appeared to be just a group of people enjoying a Hogsmeade afternoon (...though if Shay didn't know better, she could've sworn they were in the Hog's Head, an unusual meeting place for Hogwarts students). The Weasley twins were there, as were their younger brother and sister. Cho Chang waved from a corner, Neville Longbottom blinked nervously, and there, in the midst of the group, was Harry Potter.

"Some Gryffindors, right, Luna?" Shay whispered. If Harry Potter and the Weasley siblings were involved, she was certain this was more than just a gathering of friends. The students were, apparently, taking some kind of action against this new Professor...the thought of it made Shay grin. She tossed the mail on the table and left the cabin, headed back to her own. She managed to slip in without much notice - Claire and Ana were already at work. She changed clothing, ran a brush through her hair, and twisted it back into a rather messy bun. Throwing a coat over her sweater, she left the cabin again, headed for the nursery.

The nursery was a long, low building on the outskirts of the reserve. It didn't have many occupants - most dragons were more than capable of taking care of their young. But for those who weren't, or for orphan eggs and chicks placed in the reserve's care, then nursery was home.

"Hello," Shay called as she shut the door behind her, grateful for the warmth of the nursery's entryway.

"Hello, Shay" Henry said. He'd been assigned to the nursery a few months ago - his gentle-but-firm demeanor made him naturally suited for the position. "Where's Charlie?"

"Not feeling well this morning," Shay replied, hanging her coat on a hook in the entryway. "He might be in later, but it's just me for now."

"No problem, there," Henry replied. "It's getting strange to see one of you without the other."  
Shay laughed and brushed the comment aside.

"Any new arrivals?" She asked, instead. Henry nodded, but without the usual enthusiasm a new dragon chick usually brought.

"Just one," he said. "But not for long, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean?"

Henry glanced at her, then tipped his chin toward the door behind him.

"Come on," he said. "I'll show you."

Shay followed him through the door and into a dim, narrow room - almost a corridor - full of eggs set in glass containers that seemed to hum with magic - a kind of incubator that mimicked the extreme heat the eggs would be kept in under the care of a mother. There were ten eggs, at the moment, but Henry didn't stop to look at them. He led Shay through a door at the far end of the room and into another, wider room. Hatchlings were kept in nest replicas secured by magic. Keepers wandered between the nests. At this age, anything could happen - it was at this age and in their oldest years that dragons were at all susceptible to illness. Middle-aged dragons tended to die in fights or run-ins with wizards. They rarely, if ever, got sick. But baby dragons, like baby humans, were especially susceptible, and sickness could set in very quickly. The keepers were there to ensure quick treatment, as well as to separate any squabbling hatchlings and take care of any other immediate problems.

"He's back here," Henry said, leading Shay toward the furthest nest. There, smaller than Shay had ever seen a dragon chick and curled up cat-like, head under paws, was a Welsh-Green chick. He was beautiful, except for one small problem - he had a severely under-developed left wing. While the right was full and beautiful, the left was tiny and frayed, hanging limply against the dragon's side. As Henry and Shay watched, the tiny thing coughed, its body shaking - tiny puffs of smoke emerged from its mouth with each cough.

"What's wrong with him?" Shay asked, kneeling to get a better look at the hatchling.

"His egg was brought to us just before he hatched," Henry said. "There was a crack along one side - we're not sure what happened. A wizard was enjoying his morning walk when he came across this egg in the bushes, or so his story goes. The damage to the egg obviously caused problems. He's small and weak, already sick, he'll never be able to fly. We're not sure whether or not he'll even be able to roar or breathe fire - he was born without the glands to secrete poison, as well. He'll never be able to hold his own among our dragons."

"What will happen to him?"

Henry sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.  
"I hate this part," he admitted, "but it wouldn't be kind to keep him, here. Our only other choices are to release him into the wild, or to put a fast-acting poison into his food. Of the two, the latter is the more humane."

"There's no one to care for him?" Shay asked, horror mounting.

"He's a liability," Henry explained. "And we're understaffed as it is. Our Keepers have enough on their plates without having to look after a runt who'll probably die of natural causes any..."

"Give him to me."

"What?"

"You heard me, Henry. Give him to me. I'll take care of him."

"Shay, I can't allow..."

"Give me a month," Shay said. "If he's not healthy in a month, you can take him. Just give me a month."  
Henry stared.

"Charlie's gonna kill me," he muttered. "Really, though, I'm dead. But fine. One month, Morse. That's all. I'll get everything you need. You know the feeding drill and all of that ,right?"

Shay nodded.

"For what it's worth, I'll make sure Charlie doesn't kill you," she said as he walked away. Henry simply waved a hand over his shoulder. When he returned it was with gloves and other dragon-care elements.

"He'll be shy," Henry warned. "He might lash out at you..."

"Henry. I know."

"I know you know, Shay. I just have to say it, anyway. I'll crate up the dragon for you."

Henry spent the next few minutes curling blankets into a nest inside of a wooden crate. Using his gloved hands, he lifted the baby dragon into the crate and shut the lid.  
"Remember, every half hour," he said. "That's important."

"Henry, I know the feeding process. I wasn't one of Hagrid's favorite students for no reason."

"Hagrid?"

"Oh. Right. I always forget you didn't go to Hogwarts."

Henry grinned and passed the crate to Shay.  
"Good luck with Charlie," he said. "Heaven knows you'll need it."

"With everything else going on, this is the least of our worries," she said with a laugh. "I'll see you later, Henry."

"Bye, Shay."

With a baby dragon in tow, Shay began the walk back to Charlie's cabin. Might as well spring this on him while he had no work to do.


	17. The Lion and the Dove

**((So, I'm starting to write this backward, from the last chapter. This is kind of a bridge chapter, so everything should start to happen a bit more quickly, now. Although you might want to kill me after the end chapter. Just a warning. We'll see, though, I might change my mind...  
****Enjoy the chapter! )) **

"No. Shay, this is ridiculous, bring that thing back to Henry, alright?"

"Charlie, Henry just said..."

"That they can't take care of him? Yeah, exactly - if they can't, what makes you think you can?"

"I don't see why you're so worked up about this..."

"Can't see why I'm..." Charlie sucked in a deep breath, stared at the baby dragon in Shay's arms, aghast. "I just can't believe this. They aren't pets, love, you can't..."

"I'm aware of that Charlie," Shay said, swiftly becoming frustrated. "But I think I'm in a better position than most to take care of a dragon no one else is going to bother with. They don't have the time. I do. And if it's a choice that gives him a shot at life then damnit, Charlie, I'm going to take it!"

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Then why are you looking at me that way?"

"Because you're amazing, at the same time. Fine. Fine. But I'm not helping you, Shay, especially not with the feedings. You can have fun waking up every half hour to feed him."

"Oh..."

"Hadn't thought of that, had you?"

Shay wrinkled her nose in distaste for a moment, then sighed and shook her head.  
"Well, if that's what it takes," she said finally. Charlie smirked and walked past her, then snuck his arms around her waist from the back, mouth by her ear.

"By the way," he told her, the breath from his whisper making her tilt her head toward his, "Those rules are outdated."

"Really?"

"Yeah...they boosted it to every hour years 's a bit better, yeah?"

"I'll figure something out."

"I'm sure you will, Shay." He kissed her cheek and then was gone, clattering around the kitchen in search of food. "Guess that teaches me to stay home from work, right? What are you planning on coming home with, next?"  
Shay grinned and moved into the kitchen. She had to feed the dragon a vile mix of chicken's blood and brandy every hour, on the hour.

"One thing I've never understood," she said as she concocted the substance, "is the taste magical creatures have for alcohol. Single-malt whiskey for the Abraxans, brandy for dragons..."

"I wouldn't question it," Charlie said, spooning cereal out of an enormous bowl.

"You know you might as well use a serving spoon to eat out of that thing."  
Charlie grinned, but continued to eat from his normal-sized spoon. Shay shook her head and waved her wand to heat the dragon food. Henry had given her what was basically a dragon-proof baby bottle, which she filled with the red mix. As she fed it to the dragon cradled in her gloved hands, she began to hum a song her mother used to sing to her. Strangely, her sister had heard a different lullaby - each of the girls with their own song.

"What is that?"

"Hmm? Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Not you, Charlie, the dragon, he's trying to tear this thing to shreds...stop it, it's not coming off no matter how hard you bite at it."

The dragon looked up at her and gave a strange, mewling growl.

"I know you're hungry," Shay told it, shifting its weight as she tilted the bottle, "But biting this is not going to help anything."

The dragon chick snapped its jaws but didn't seem to struggle with the bottle anymore.

"Anyway," Shay said, now that the dragon was happily drinking, "It's a lullaby my mother used to sing to me, when I was small. It gets...caught in my head, you know? Sometimes."

"Does it have any words?"

"Are you asking me to sing?"

"Maybe. I've never heard you sing, you know."

"That's not exactly unusual, Charlie, I've never heard you sing, either..."

"That's because I don't," Charlie said. "And you don't want me to, believe me."

"I'm not very good," Shay warned.

"If you can hold a tune, you're better than me."

"You really want to hear it?"

"Of course."

Shay sighed, then closed her eyes.

"_After all is said and done _  
_And the dark meets with the One,_  
_Then the lion and the dove _  
_Mingle tears and mourn their love._  
_In the day war meets its end _  
_Then, the dove, it will be penned_  
_To meet its fate, no more to sing _  
_As freedom's sacrifice takes wing._  
_Only then when her time's done _  
_Shall dark surrender to the sun_."

The cabin's silence seemed, for a moment, absolute, as if the lullaby had taken so much sound there was none left over.

"That was your lullaby?"  
Shay nodded, and set the bottle on the table - the dragon had fallen asleep, his chin resting on her wrist. She smiled down at him fondly, then walked him in to lay him down on the hearth, close by the fire.

"It's so sad."

"Many lullabies are," Shay replied with a shrug. "But it doesn't mean anything."

A tap on the window and an owl's screech drew their attention. A handsome screech owl stared imperiously through the window. Noticing both sets of eyes on them it screeched again, demanding to be let in.  
Charlie threw the window open and let the owl hop onto his arm. Shay untied the scroll of parchment from the owl's leg and immediately recognized the handwriting of Albus Dumbledore.

"It's Order business," she said as Charlie set out water for the owl. "And it..."  
She paused, eyes scanning the handwriting.

"And what?"

"...They want you to investigate a Vasile and Adelina Petrescu, a husband and wife. Dumbledore thinks they may be conveying information to Lord Voldemort and gathering followers for him, here."

Charlie started violently at the sound of the dark wizard's name. For a moment, Shay couldn't figure out what had caused his reaction.

"Sorry," she said finally, blushing faintly. "My family never called him anything else."  
In front of the fire, the baby dragon began to snore, emitting faint puffs of smoke from his nostrils.

"Why is it always you?"

"What?"

"They always want you to do all of this," Shay said. "Not that you aren't qualified, Charlie, because you clearly are, but...why don't they ever ask me?"  
Charlie tugged the parchment from her hands, and leaned his forehead against hers.

"I'm sure it's nothing, Shay," Charlie replied. "You'll get a task eventually. And besides, you have to take care of our new friend, there."

"I know, but...I just feel so useless, Charlie."

Charlie shook his head and slipped a hand around the back of her neck, gently pulling her head toward his.  
"You're far from useless," he assured her, and kissed her forehead. "I promise. Shay, I'd better get going. I promised Clifford I'd help him. And I now have Henry to talk to..."

"Don't you dare go off on him, Charlie Weasley, I told him I wouldn't let you kill him."

Charlie's eyebrows shot up, and he laughed.  
"Wasn't planning on killing him," he said. "Just...roughing him up about."

"Charlie, I'm serious. Don't. It's not his fault, I was considering Imperiusing him if he refused..."

"Somehow, I have a hard time imagining that."

Charlie threw a coat on, then paused in the open doorway.

"See you soon, love."

"Bye, Charlie."

Once he was gone and she was sure the dragon was still asleep, Shay found quill, ink, and parchment and began to write. When the letter was finished, she tied it to the screech owl's leg and offered him an owl treat, which he readily took.

"Deliver this straight to Dumbledore," She ordered. "And if anyone else tries to take it, don't let them. Understood?"  
The owl hooted somberly,but conveyed his understanding and took off through the window Shay had opened for him. She watched the owl shrink until he was nothing but a speck on the horizon, then shut the window against the chilly breeze. A quick glance back into the other room showed that the baby dragon was awake and blinking sleepily.

"Morning, baby," she said. She pulled the gloves back on and picked him up. "What should we call you, little prince?"  
The dragon blinked up a her and hiccuped, shaking out its wings - the misshapen one fluttered against his side, but did not move much, otherwise.  
"Cadfael," Shay decided finally. "That's what we'll call you. 'Battle prince'. I think it fits, don't you?"  
After assembling another feeding, she tucked the bottle into a bag she slung over her shoulder - she put the dragon in the bag as well, his head peeping out from beneath the flap. Laughing at the curious look on his face, she made her way back to "her" cabin. She'd promised Claire she'd visit and visit she would. Even with an unexpected guest and a bottle of chicken blood and brandy in her bag. Something told her Claire wouldn't mind too much.


	18. St Mungo's

**((Did anyone else notice that in the fifth book, after Mr. Weasley was bitten by the snake, Charlie wasn't there? It kind of irritated me that he and Percy were the only Weasley's who didn't appear at St. Mungo's, so this does go against the books a little in that I put Charlie there. I just didn't think it would be something he would ignore. So pardon me that little revision, please. : )  
There are probably going to be about five or six more chapters - keep the reading and reviews going...I appreciate every single one!)) **

The response to her letter didn't come until Shay had almost forgotten about it entirely.

_My dear Miss. Morse_, it began, _I apologize for the fact that you perceived our lack of assignments as an oversight - I received information from Mr. Weasley not long after you both agreed to join The Order stating that you did not wish for outside assignments, as you would prefer to focus on your work with the Romanian reserve. Because you each cited the other as capable of passing on such information, we heeded the information in the letter. Regarding this flaw in communication (which is, of course, bound to happen sometimes) we will, of course, begin to include you in outside assignments. Your work regarding the gathering and decoding of certain information has, of course, been very useful. I do hope this letter finds you well. _

_Felicitations,_

_Albus Dumbledore._

After staring at the paper for several minutes, most of which she spent fuming, Shay let the paper flutter to the ground while outside it began to snow, adding to the layer that already covered the ground. Cad, as the dragon had affectionately come to be known, looked up with big eyes and made a noise somewhere between whimper and growl as he perceived her anger.

"It's not you, big guy," she told him, scooping the dragon up and putting him in the bag once more. Gathering her book and the various other things she'd left scattered around Charlie's cabin, she shoved her feet into her boots, threw her coat on, and stomped out into the snow. She was actually vaguely amazed that her temper didn't melt the snow down to mud - she felt angry enough to do it. As luck would have it, a shaggy head of bright-red hair was headed toward her - Charlie was coming back, trudging through the snow and grinning to see Shay headed toward him. He didn't see the scowl on her face until it was too late.

"Shay! I was just coming back to see if you..."

He was cut off by an envelope cutting through the air. It flipped against his chest and began to tumble to the snow - Charlie caught it just in time and glanced at Shay.  
"You've been writing to Dumbledore?"

"Just read it," Shay snapped. Charlie looked at her, startled, but unfolded the letter from its envelope. She could see the realization as it crossed his face, and when he dropped his hand to his side to look at her, he met with an icy stare.

"Shay..."

"How. Dare. You."

"Shay, I..."

"No! You're not allowed to defend this, Charlie! How could you? I trusted you, I - "

"Shay, I think you're overreacting a..."

"Overreacting. Overreacting? No, Charlie, you - " she jabbed at his chest with a finger, "are the one overreacting! I'm not going to die -" another jab "Because of one mission!"

"You don't know that!"

He grabbed her wrist, his grip firm without ever hurting and tugging her closer a step or two. Shay resisted, jostling Cad in his bag. He squawked unhappily, diverting their attention. Shay recognized her opportunity and jerked her wrist away from Charlie. She turned sharply and continued on to her cabin.

"Shay, please...let me explain, at least!"

"I don't want to talk to you, Charlie!"

She shut the door behind her a bit more forcefully than she intended to, and smiled sheepishly at Claire and Ana's raised eyebrows.  
"Sorry," she whispered.

"Trouble in paradise?" Ana asked, the first words she'd spoken to Shay in a long time.

"You could say that," Shay muttered, setting Cad free from the bag and taking a seat in one of the kitchen chairs. The baby dragon, suddenly shy, scuttled under the table and sat squarely on Shay's feet.

"Jumpy little thing, isn't he?" Ana commented, peering under the table. Cad attempted to growl and raised his good wing in what was supposed to be a threatening gesture. Ana snorted. "Nice try," she told him, nudging his chest gently with a booted foot. The dragon chick squawked unhappily and snapped at her toes. Even Shay had to laugh at this.

"What happened?" Claire asked, leaning forward to put her hand on top of Shay's.

"Charlie," Shay said, "is an ass."

"Alright," Claire said, surprised, "simple enough. Is there any more to this story?"

Shay huffed, staring down at the top of Cad's head as he gnawed happily at the toes of her magically-protected leather boots.  
"He told someone something I didn't want told," she said, "And its caused quite a bit of trouble for me, to be honest, not to mention that he had no cause, whatsoever, to speak for me in this matter, and he's being overprotective and overbearing and..."  
She was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Irritating," Shay finished with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the door.

"Shay? Shay, I know you're in there. Talk to me. Please?"

Claire glanced at Shay, who was now staring resolutely out the window.  
"Shay?" She asked, finally, what do you want me to tell him? We can't leave the poor boy sitting out in the cold all night."

Shay covered her face with her hands, then peered at Claire from between her fingers.  
"I don't know," she mumbled. "I really, really don't know."

"Well," Claire said, steadying herself with a deep breath, "Are you upset enough to...end things?"

"What? No. No, I...no."

"Alright. That's all I need to know."

Claire walked to the door and opened it just enough to peer out.

"Claire. Claire, thank goodness. Please, is Shay...I need to talk to her."

"Charlie." Claire's voice was steady and steadying. She shifted to block Charlie's view into the kitchen. "She's here. She's fine, and she wanted me to tell you that while she has no intention of ending things..."

"Ending-!"

"She doesn't want to talk to you right now." Claire lowered her voice, having successfully drowned out Charlie's interruption. "Just give her time, Charlie. That's all."  
Shay could hear lowered voices as they said goodbye (or, so she assumed) and then Claire very quietly let the door click closed.

"He's upset, Shay. He feels badly about it, you can just tell."

Shay closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the back of the chair.

"I mean, in the usual Charlie-Weasley manner of showing it, he is. Just about pulling his hair out without meaning to and all of that."

"Claire...I love you. But please shut up."

Claire fell silent for a moment. Then:  
"It'll make it very awkward at work for the two of you, you know."

"Claire!"

"Sorry."

* * *

The Incident, as it became known, occurred on December Tenth. For four days, Charlie and Shay did not speak at all, though it was not for lack of trying on his part. On the fifth day, Shay offered a cool "hello", and on the night of the sixth day all hell broke loose.  
It began as a peaceful night - after a day of speaking with the dragons that would cooperate, Shay had enjoyed a quiet dinner with Ana and Shay. Now, she and Cad were the only ones in the house awake, sitting in the warm kitchen by candlelight as she fed him yet another bottle of chicken's blood and brandy. Soon, she knew, she'd be able to wean him off of the stuff and begin with small strips of raw meat every three hours. But for now, the schedule remained the same. Dragons, especially Welsh Greens, grew rather slowly, and Cad was only slightly bigger now than he had been at the start. He made soft, contented little grunting noises as he ate, his eyelids swiftly becoming heavy.

"Silly thing," she murmured. "All we need to do is feed you and you go right to sleep?"

The knock that came next startled them both, like a very wrong note played in the midst of an otherwise beautiful song. Shay set the dragon chick down on the table, sending him a very clear message to stay where he was, and peered through the window next to the door. Familiar red hair contrasted starkly with the snow in the light of a wand. For a moment, Shay was irritated - whatever he had to say could surely wait until morning. But then, she saw the look on his face, the look of panic and pain that she couldn't ignore. Shay unlocked the door and eased it open. The look of relief that immediately passed over Charlie's face softened her - the fear that remained did the rest.

"Shay, I'm so sorry - I know it's late, or early, or...but it's an emergency, and I just...I need you, Shay, that's the truth of it, I..."

She'd never seen him this close to tears before, and it scared her.

"Charlie..." She reached up to touch his face, looking at him with clear concern. He leaned into her hand and closed his eyes. She could almost feel his panic, whatever it was about. "What's happened?"

"My dad...my dad's been attacked. I don't know all of the details, Mum just...they're taking him to St. Mungo's, and I..."

"Then what are you still doing here?"

"I...I have to leave..."

"I know."

"And I...Shay, come with me? Please. I know you're still mad at me, but..."

"Of course. Charlie, of course. Here...come in, let me get some things together."

Charlie nodded, dazed, and sat down in the chair Shay had vacated as she moved around the cabin, packing a bag and jotting down a note for Claire and Ana.

"What about Cad?" She asked finally. The dragon had taken up a perch on Charlie's knee, and was currently enjoying a good chin scratch. Charlie sighed.

"He's doing well enough," Charlie said, "We could take him to the nursery - we'll only be gone long enough to be sure Dad's okay."  
Seeing this as the best possible option (she didn't particularly want to Apparate with a dragon), Shay packed Cad back into his bag and, with Charlie not far behind, headed toward the nursery.

"Will Henry still be here?" She asked. Charlie nodded, though he looked distracted, and Shay wasn't sure how accurate his responses would be under the circumstances. She knocked on the door before she entered, ensuring the immediate attention of whoever did happen to be working, this night. Thankfully, it was Henry - he looked a bit sleepy, understandably, and blinked when he saw her.

"Henry, something's come up - emergency at home, Charlie and I have to leave for a little while. Could you look after Cad until we get back? He's still on chicken's blood and brandy every hour, but he should fall right to sleep after this next feeding, he always does...I'll pick him right back up again when we return."

Henry nodded and mutely took the dragon-in-a-bag Shay held out to him.  
"Thanks, Henry, I owe you." She said, all but running out of the door in her haste, knowing that if her father had recently been admitted to St. Mungo's, she'd be in a desperate rush to see him.  
"Ready?" She asked Charlie gently, taking his hand. He already looked as if he'd been through a war zone. He nodded and squeezed her hand as they walked to the Apparition point, turned together, and disappeared with a snap into the night.

The streets were dark and quiet when they arrived, appearing out-of-plain-view in an alleyway a block from the Mungo's entrance. When they'd made it inside and stumbled to the desk it was to a suspicious look from the woman behind it. Truth be told, they did look rather strange - both still carrying overnight bags, windswept, and fatigued. Considering the circumstances around Arthur Weasley's injury, this did not alarm the visitors.

"Just a moment," she told them, and disappeared into a back room, returning moments later. Not long afterward, a very worried Mrs. Weasley appeared behind them.  
"Yes, yes," she said, clearly annoyed, "That's my son, they're with us..." She led them down the hallway and turned a moment later, tears glimmering in her eyes. "Oh, Charlie, I'm so glad you came," she said. "I didn't think you'd be able..."

"Of course I came, Mum," Charlie said. "How could I not?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled and hugged her son, kissing his cheek before she released him.  
"And Shay, dear, it's so good to see you again, I only wish it was under happier circumstances..."  
Mrs. Weasley hugged Shay, too, then turned back to the hallway.  
"Come on up," she said. "Your father is sleeping, now, but he'll be glad to see you when he wakes up."

"Is he alright?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded.  
"Thanks to the Healers," she said with a grateful smile, "He's alive. In some pain, of course, but then again..."  
She fell silent as if imagining the alternatives, and shuddered.

"Harry, Ron, Ginny and the twins are with Sirius," she said. "Bill's taking off work, he'll be here soon, and Percy..."  
She looked shocked at her own mention of Percy's name, and hurriedly brushed it off. "...Well," she said, "I should go let them know he's alright, I'm sure they're worried sick. Do you mind staying with him, Charlie? At least until Bill gets here, of course."

"No, mum, of course I don't mind," Charlie said.

"We'll take good care of him," Shay assured her, which at least made Mrs. Weasley smile.

"I know you will," she replied. "I'll be back soon. This is his room, right here."

She led them into Mr. Weasley's ward and deposited them by the sleeping wizard's bedside.  
"Poor Arthur," she murmured, and tenderly brushed her husband's hair with her fingers. She kissed his forehead softly, so as not to wake him, and then left. Alone in the darkened ward, Charlie and Shay took seats by Mr. Weasley's bedside. Charlie rested his elbows on his knees and let his head fall into his hands. Sitting next to him Shay reached up and put a hand on his back, the muscles tense beneath her palm.

"He's going to be okay," she reminded him gently, rubbing soothing circles on his back. She could feel the muscles beneath slowly losing their rigid tension, relaxing under her hand. She hadn't realized, until now, how much she'd missed him these past few days. It hadn't even been a week, and it was already a relief to just be near him again. The effect they had on each other, she thought, was amazing.

"I know," Charlie murmured, voice muffled by his hands. "It's just...it's really happening, you know? Just like last time..."

He fell silent, and Shay knew he must be thinking of the uncles he lost, of all of the people his parents must have cried over while he, just a child, wondered what was going on, unable to comprehend what war meant. Now, he knew, and it made the memories, those past experiences, take on meanings they'd never had before.

"It's real," Shay agreed. "But it can't last forever. He's okay, we're okay...that's all that matters."

"Are we?" Charlie's head emerged from his hands and he looked at her carefully. "Okay?"

"Of course, Charlie," Shay said, taking her hand from his back and entwining their fingers together. "Of course. I'm sorry I...I overreacted, I shouldn't have..."

"No," Charlie interrupted, "it's my fault, I never should have sent that letter to Dumbledore, I just wanted to protect you, but I know I..."

"Shh," Shay said. She stifled a yawn and rested her head on Charlie's shoulder. "It's alright. We both made mistakes, but it's over, and it doesn't matter right now. We can talk about it later, if we want to. Right now, all that matters is your Dad."

Charlie nodded again and they both fell silent, taking up their bedside vigil and waiting for Bill to arrive and Mrs. Weasley's return.


	19. Flashforward

**((I apologize (once again!) for the ultra-long gap between chapters...my school is legitimately crazy, and I've had a lot on my plate. Enjoyable, but frantic. Anyway, now that my big end-of-the-year paper is done, things should calm down a little bit and there will be more where this came from. Thanks for sticking with this! It means so much to me. I hope you're all having a wonderful spring, and I will try my best to get more of this to you as soon as I possibly can.)) **

"Don't open these until Christmas," Molly Weasley had said with a wink, sliding a pile of brightly-wrapped presents into Shay's arms as she and Charlie left The Burrow - they'd stayed for as long as they could, but with Order demands and the regular business of the Reserve, had needed to go back to Romania without celebrating Christmas with the Weasleys. Swallowing their disappointment, Shay and Charlie had bid everyone goodbye, sure, now, that Mr. Weasley would make a full recovery. Now, they were both laden with gifts and packages of food to take back with them.

"Mum," Charlie said, peering at his mother over the tower of boxes in his arms, "How are we ever going to Disapparate with all of this?"

"Oh...I'm sure you'll manage," Mrs. Weasley said, not quite reassuring. Behind her own stack of gifts (which was nearly as tall as she was), Shay grinned at Charlie, who rolled his eyes in return. Finally, they had managed to spin...if rather precariously...just outside of the garden gate. They reappeared with everything, even the ribbons on the gifts, completely intact.  
"Your mother," Shay said, "is the nicest person I think I've ever met."  
Charlie grinned and ducked his head.  
"She's the best mum I could've asked for," Charlie said. "She's a saint, really. I don't know how she put up with all of us for all of these years."  
They made their way up a wooded incline, each balancing their precarious stack of gifts until they could slide them on to Charlie's cluttered kitchen table - mail had accumulated while they were gone. No sooner had they closed the door behind them than Shay was whirling around to leave again.  
"Whoah, now, where are you going?"  
"To get the dragon!" Shay said happily. "Don't tell me you've forgotten him!"

Charlie shook his head as she disappeared, humming "God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs" as she went.

Everything was good again, Shay thought happily as she collected the baby dragon. He'd immediately nuzzled into her, resting his small head just beneath her chin, his breath warm on her collarbone.  
Well. Almost everything. Her mood sobered instantly at the thought of Voldemort's rise, the attack on Mr. Weasley, the danger that she and her friends were in, every day...she shuddered and ducked her head as Cad lifted his, pressing his nose gently against her forehead. He chirped and rustled his wings, trying to comfort her.  
"Thanks, love," Shay said. "I'm so glad to have you back."  
She thought that this might be a taste of what it would feel like, to return home to a baby who would nestle against you and smile. The force of her desire for that, for that life...more specifically, for that life with Charlie...hit her so violently that it nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. But there was a war. And she...well. She wasn't sure of anything, when it came to her future. Not anymore.  
When Shay returned to Charlie's cabin, it was to find that he'd somehow procured a fully-decorated Christmas tree, resplendent with lit candles and glimmering ornaments, and had stacked the gifts beneath it.  
"Your mum and dad sent some, as well," he said, grinning up at her when she walked in. He got to his feet and held Shay's chilled face in his hands, kissed her lightly on the nose, and greeted Cad with a scratch beneath the chin. The dragon chirruped, happy, and leaned into the friendly touch.  
"Come on," Charlie said, tugging on Shay's hand as eagerly as a child. "What do you say we open these?"  
"Now?"  
"Yes, now. Come on. We need a little joy, don't you think?"  
Beneath the excuse, Shay could see that Charlie was as eager to open the presents as any child would be...and, to tell the truth, she was eager as well. She hadn't expected the wealth of gifts that had been bestowed on her by Mrs. Weasley, and she could hardly wait to find out what they were.  
"Alright," she said, and allowed him to lead her into the sitting room. She sat cross-legged on the floor, her back against the couch, with Cad sitting on the triangle of floor created by her criss-crossed legs. Charlie passed her a box she recognized as a Mrs. Weasley gift, wrapped in blue and tied with bronze ribbon. Shay smiled and took it, watching the candles shine in the wrapping as Charlie picked up a box of his own. He tore into it, unveiling a package of sweets Shay recognized as his favorites - Ice MIce and Sugar Quills, along with the standard Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bott's.  
Carefully, she began to unwrap her own gift. And nearly cried when she had it in her hands.

A Weasley sweater. Deep, sapphire blue, several shades darker than Shay's eyes, with a curling cursive "S" embroidered in silvery thread. It was impossibly soft to the touch and smelt of Christmas the way that The Burrow had - a mix of allspice and anise, pine and candles.  
"Shay?" Charlie sounded so concerned that, for a moment, she thought something might truly be wrong. Then, he leaned forward and erased a stray tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "What's wrong?" He asked gently, "Don't you like it?"  
Shay blinked and swiped at her eyes, laughing.  
"No," she said. "No, it's not that, it's...I love it."  
She traced the letter on the front with her fingers, as carefully as if she thought a simple touch would dissolve the embroidery. She knew how much these sweaters meant, what Mrs. Weasley meant in giving it to her. It was an official welcome to the family, and Shay could not have asked for a better Christmas gift.

- - - - - - - - - -

The rest of the winter passed with so very little fanfare that it almost seemed to have not happened at all. The cold passed away and was replaced by warmer air, until it seemed that summer was going to come crashing through the room. Everyone at the reserve was in high spirits, glad to have passed through another cold season with little difficulty.  
Charlie was understandably perplexed to find Shay curled up with her arms around Cad, staring bleakly through the sitting room window.  
"Shay?" He asked cautiously - he hadn't seen her like this since the letter from Dumbledore - "Shay, what is it?"

She looked up at him, and though there were no tears in her eyes, she looked, somehow, very sad.  
"Order news," she said. "It just came today."  
She held out an envelope. It was charred around the edges, and she laughed, the sound dull, when Charlie glanced at it.  
"Cad knew it upset me," she explained, "so he attacked it. Or tried to, anyway."  
"Remind me not to get on his bad side," Charlie said. Before he read the letter he joined Shay on the window seat, sitting just behind her so that she could rest against him while he read.  
The news was grave, indeed, and hit Charlie harder than he thought it would.  
"Sirius Black is dead?" he murmured. Shay nodded, but Charlie knew this could not possibly the reason for her sadness - she'd hardly known Sirius. The only other information contained in the letter had to do with some kind of prophecy. "What's wrong, love?"

Shay shook her head.  
"It's...it's nothing, Charlie."  
"Shay. It's not nothing."  
"No, Charlie, really, it's just...it's just that I'm...I'm scared."  
"Of what?"  
"I told you," she said with a shrug that he could feel, "It's nothing. I'm sorry, Charlie...I didn't mean to worry you."  
"You didn't worry me," he said. "I just wanted to be sure you're alright."  
"I'm fine."  
There was something there, something she was hiding, but Charlie could not seem to put his finger on it. And she, very obviously, was not going to divulge any details.  
"Alright," he said, settling for being able to hold her just a little bit tighter. "It's going to be alright, Shay."  
"I know," she said. But her voice was darker than Charlie had ever heard it. And, suddenly, he too was scared.


	20. Dumbledore is Dead

Cad and Dracul seemed to have adopted each other, much as Dracul had seemed to adopt Shay. While she still toured the Reserve, helping the trainers with some of the more difficult cases and trying to persuade dragons that following the trainers' orders was the best course of action, Shay could often be found in Dracul's cavern, as she was now. Dracul permitted Shay the use of a few spectacularly embroidered cushions from his stash of treasure, which she used to soften the hard stone floor...and protect from any treasure-shards that might be scattered about. Cad was playing happily with several diamonds as large as Shay's fist, allowing them to collide together and then spin away. Dracul, whose head was resting on Shay's lap, watched him with a great deal of amusement.

_You've made him different_, Dracul told Shay._ Not like other dragons._

Shay furrowed her brow for a moment, worried.  
"What do you mean?"

_He thinks like dragon_, Dracul said, blinking his enormous eyes slowly,_ But his thoughts do not feel like dragon. His mind is...mixed._

"Is that...is that alright? I mean, he won't be in trouble because..."

_No_, Dracul said, and then seemed to laugh with a dry, rasping noise that could have been a cough._ No, he will be fine. Is only...interesting. Dragons reason, yes, but they do not...this one looks at the future in ways no dragon does. He...he does not see it, just as you cannot, but he worries and wonders as you would._

"Dragons don't do that?"  
Dracul sighed and shifted, allowing one wing to unfold slightly, tenting over Cad. The little dragon peered up at the wing, blinking, surprised at being suddenly encompassed by shadow.

_Not as humans do_, he said finally._ We see future only as food to be eaten and treasure to be had. Humans...wonder. They see the future as glorious and terrible at once. They worry about their species, ones they've never met. They wonder if they've done the right thing for the future. Dragons do not. Dragons say tomorrow will come, no matter what, and that is the only thought._

"But Cad...?"

_The young one wonders,_ Dracul said after a moment's pause._ About a great, Dark Wizard he sees in your words. He loves humans more than any dragon I've met - you're his mother. The word in his mind for you is the same as our word for...we don't call them "mothers", but the same feeling. He would happily follow you to the end of his life. He loves what you love. Your...notmate...is second in his mind to you. He loves your notmate because you love him._

Shay laughed.  
"You could just call him Charlie, you know," she said. "It might make it easier for all of us."

_He sees there is great darkness coming_, Dracul said._ But...that is something none of us can escape._

Shay's mood instantly sobered, and she rested her forehead against Dracul's enormous head.  
Just as he had once (it seemed, now, so long ago!) taken her flying over his home, he now offered her a glimpse of something terrible. Darkness swirled from every angle, screams of anguish erupting from a void. The screams came from humans, Shay could tell, but there was a rumbling, echoing groan that emerged from beneath, rolling like a steady pulse beneath the chaotic screams. It was no less anguished for being so steady, and Shay knew it to be the cries of dragons, enslaved and unhappy. An image of the Dark Mark swirled between the grey-and-black clouds and shadows, and then she was back, blinking back tears and staring at the top of Dracul's head.

"That...that's what you see coming?" She said.

_That...and worse,_ Dracul said._ Dragons...are ancient, and we know things humans cannot. We can tell the approach of such darkness as humans can tell the approach of a storm. Some...thrive...on it. Others, most of us here, dread it as you do._

"Is there nothing we can do to stop it?"

_We?_ Cad asked._ No. I...they do not listen to dragons like you do, hatchling. No. You must help. You are very small. Even by human standards. But there are people here who know your mind. Who will listen. Help us. The humans here...they are good, though scared and...misinformed...they will help. The Dark People, the people who come...will hurt. Will kill. Will make us kill. And we do not...wish war with humans again._

Shay nodded, determination settling somewhere in her chest. He was right. She knew he was right. And, if she could do anything about it, the rest of the Reserve would, too.

******

It didn't take much to convince the higher-ups of the Reserve that Shay was right - they knew of her ability with the dragons, knew the way she communicated with them and, above all...seemed to trust her. New emergency plans were put into effect, which would allow the release of dragons (with Shay's help) if the Death Eaters ever attached the reserve. New defensive spells were put up in layers surrounding the reserve and outlying area, and all of the cooperative dragons were informed of what would happen, should an attack begin. They would each fly with a squad of trainers on broomsticks, who would be armed with wands and sleeping draughts. They were not to attack the trainers in any way, or they would not be saved.  
Those dragons who would not cooperate, Shay was sorry to say, would need to be left behind. They were a danger to themselves and to their trainers, if left behind. For a very long time, hours upon hours, Shay tried to convince the Horntail. But to no avail. It, along with a handful of others, would have to be left to the mercy of the Death Eaters, if the time ever came.

The process took some months, until Shay and Charlie were satisfied with the results - the Ministry-approved research projects had been put on hold until further notice. Very few on the Reserve seemed to trust the Ministry, these days, and were more than willing to feign ignorance to anything that went against them.

Shay and Charlie felt as if they were living in a constant state of motion and confusion, always working and rarely resting. Cad was growing fast and he, along with the other dragons, kept Shay busy. Charlie, following a recent promotion within the Reserve, was balancing his new responsibilities with the old projects and helping care for Cad. Both of them spent some nights away from home on Order business, keeping the other anxiously awake and awaiting the return. Shay hated those nights of stillness, sitting at the kitchen table with a sleeping Cad at her feet, pretending to sip tea and trying to read until an exhausted Charlie stumbled through the door. Often, there was blood and whispered, strained conversations full of fear and worry. Beyond their work and these midnight conversations, they saw too little of each other. The time that they did have was spent quietly, curled up together in armchairs or sleepily sprawled on the bed, talking quietly and glad to simply be close. These times were, as a rule, free of Order-talk and work. They spoke of everything and anything else, trying to keep the other's minds from the darkness around them.

The day the next Order letter came, coded and magicked for protection, was one of these days. Late morning had crept up on them, sun streaming through the thin curtains over Charlie's window. They were both awake but unwilling to move, foreheads pressed together, Charlie's hand tangled in Shay's hair. One of her hands held the arm that belonged to the hand in her hair, lightly tracing old scars and burn marks. The other was curled softly between them, its back pressed against the warm skin of Charlie's chest. The baby dragon was curled against the back of Shay's legs, his chin resting on her ankle. His breath was warm and slow and even, tickling against Shay's skin even through the light blanket that covered it.

The tap at the window made Shay jump.

"I'll get it," Charlie murmured. Shay's fingers slipped over his forearm as he disentangled himself. He kissed her forehead and stood, the muscles moving beneath his skin as he stretched and headed for the window. The owl perched on the sill tapped, insistent - it was a majestic-looking horned owl, which still seemed to shimmer in and out of sight with the effect of some kind of disguising spell. Charlie let it in and took the letter from its leg. The owl hooted and flew off immediately, leaving nothing but a cool breeze in its wake. Shay drowsily watched Charlie open it, propping herself up on her elbow when his reaction to the letter made him go still and silent.  
"Charlie?"  
He glanced at her, dumbstruck, his eyes telling the whole story before Shay knew anything.  
Someone else was dead. They'd had far too many notices of deaths that no one else but the Order would report...and both knew that it would only get worse.  
Today, Shay could see, it had already done so.  
"Charlie, you're worrying me," she said. "What is it?"  
Cad awoke and growled unhappily at being disturbed. He stood and padded up to sit next to Shay, flopping down with his head on her collarbone, staring at her face. She was sure that the steadiness of the little dragon's heartbeat and the warmth of him was the only thing keeping her anchored to earth until Charlie replied.

She watched him tug at his hair, something he only ever did when anxious, then watched him slowly, very slowly, sit down on the edge of the bed. She reached out a hand to touch him on the shoulder, and he pressed the paper into her hand.  
"It's...it's bad," he croaked, resting his head in his hands. "Shay. Everything...everything just fell out from under us. What do we do, now?"  
Shay read the information once. Then again. And again. Unwilling to believe the words that were right there in front of her.  
"Dumbledore is dead..." she whispered, eyes flooding as she remembered the kind old wizard. Her heart and stomach seemed to plummet from their normal positions, almost felt as if they'd disappeared altogether.  
Beside her, Cad's heartbeat went on.  
Charlie turned to look at her, enclosing the hand that held the letter with one of his own. Shay thought, abstractly and out-of-place, how amazing it was that one of his hands could so enclose her own.  
Cad and Charlie. Cad and Charlie were still alive, and that was all that mattered, really. Right?  
She took a breath and nodded, shook her head.  
"We'll just have to fight all the harder then, won't we?"  
Charlie nodded.  
"It's about to get very dark, very fast. Isn't it?"  
Charlie nodded, eyes locked with hers. She turned her hand and interlocked their fingers, mangling the paper between them as she did so.  
"We'll make it," she said, feeling a pang of guilt at a promise she had no power to give. Charlie was trying hard to hide his sadness and fear, she thought, but it was there, stronger than she'd ever seen it.  
"Come on," she whispered, patting the bed beside her, "We'll go to the funeral. But we still have the rest of today."  
But the rest of today was nothing like their other, peaceful days off. Though they were still and quiet, Charlie's face pressed against the side of Shay's neck, his arms holding her just a little too tightly, the stillness was nothing like peace.

Shay absently ran her fingers through Charlie's shaggy hair, trying to remember Molly Weasley asking her to make him keep it short, trying to focus on the two heartbeats that kept on and on and on. Charlie was shaking, she could feel it in his hands, in the taut muscles of his arms. And she couldn't help the feat and the guilt that set in as she wondered how they were all going to survive.  
Now that Dumbledore was dead.

There was nothing left that Shay was sure of. Nothing but the fact that she was still alive. That they were still alive.  
And the fear that she might now always be able to say that.


	21. Only More to Come

**((And, finally, the much-awaited next chapter! I'd explain myself, but it's a whole bunch of job/school/personal drama that you probably don't care about. : ) **

**We're actually beginning to reach the end here, as you can probably tell. Thank you so much for sticking with me, and I'm going to try my best to get the last few chapters up in fairly quick succession. I already have the last one written, so it'll just be a matter of writing up the last chapter or two in between. I hope you enjoy, and as always I loved hearing from you - please review some more! It always makes me day. **

**As always, of course, I own nothing but Shay. And possibly Cad. But even that's debatable. )) **

* * *

"I used to get nervous before every Quidditch game."

"What?"  
"Every single one, no matter how long I'd played. I'd stand there in the changing rooms and just...and shake, you know? My hands would shake. And I'd be afraid there would be no way I'd ever get on that broom."  
"Charlie..."  
"And it's weird, right? Because this is so much worse, so incredibly worse than a silly Quidditch match, but I'm only as nervous as I ever was, then."  
Shay sighed and reached between them, laced their fingers together.  
"We'll be okay, Charlie."  
"Your cousin was never nervous, though. Oliver. Even at his tryouts."  
"That's because Ol is a maniac,"  
"No, but still. I just...I dunno, Shay. I feel like it should be worse."  
They spoke in hushed tones, chilled even in the summer night. Shoulders touching, hands clasped. Shay gave Charlie's hand a squeeze, then released it so that she could be ready, at a moment's notice, to grab her wand. They had received notice of a coven of nearby vampires recruited by Voldemort, as well as several werewolves believed to have been convinced, by Fenrir Greyback, to join the ranks of the so-called Dark Lord. And now they were waiting.

This was what Shay thought of as she stared at The Burrow's ceiling, the tremor in Charlie's voice, her own even responses, and wished she'd said something different. Charlie had been afraid, so afraid that he couldn't even voice it as its own, had to resort to schoolday fears to explain it.  
And she had been so cool, so calm, so collected. So focused on the shadows of the dark trees and potential danger that she'd...she'd what? Very nearly ignored his fears entirely. Poor, dear Charlie.  
She exhaled, loudly, the mere puff of breath disturbing the relative silence of Ginny Weasley's rather crowded room. Ginny, Hermione, Fleur and her sister Gabrielle, and Shay, were all sharing the room for the night. The Weasleys had maneuvered cots in for the guests and, though the room was relatively warm and crowded, it wasn't uncomfortable. In fact, the rest of the girls seemed to have drifted off fairly easily, after the chatter died down. Fleur, who would be married in a matter of hours, slept as peacefully and prettily as an angel, her blonde hair in a shimmering braid down her back. Her sister was just as pretty, just as peaceful, hands folded over the blanket. Hermione had fallen asleep while reading, and the book rested splayed on her chest. Ginny had kicked her blanket off in her sleep, and her limbs sprawled across the mattress.

Shay punched her pillow and turned over.  
And there. Were. Eyes. Watching her. In the doorway.  
Her heart skidded to a stop, slamming painfully into her ribs in its haste. Her breath simply vanished without so much as a goodbye.  
It took her sleepy brain an awfully long time to realize how familiar the eyes were, how unthreatening. She released her wand and pressed her palms to her temples, felt the blood pound against the delicate skin. Carefully, so as not to wake the others, she swung off of her cot, slipped through the door, and pulled it shut behind her.  
"Charles. Fabian. Weasley. You nearly killed me!" She hissed.  
"Yes, well, Bill nearly killed me," Charlie retorted, "With him talking in his sleep all night. Poor bloke. Pre-wedding jitters, I guess. How's Fleur?"  
"Sleeping like a baby. Charlie, I...I'm sorry."  
Charlie's eyebrows furrowed, his head tilted slightly to the side. He looked so endearingly like Cad, for a moment, that Shay nearly laughed.  
"Sorry? Why? What for?"  
"That night. In the woods. I...you told me how afraid you...and I just...I brushed it off, and I -"  
"Is that all?"  
Shay bit her lip and nodded. Charlie chuckled.  
"Silly girl. It doesn't matter."  
He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.  
"We have to wake up very early tomorrow, don't we?"  
"Mm." She curled into his chest, nestling her head against him, and breathed in the familiar smell of Charlie, a slight smell of cinnamon that she could never place, the scent of his soap, the burn ointment he must have recently applied to the most recent mark on his shoulder.  
She hadn't inhaled Amortentia in years, not since her Potions class in seventh year, an advanced course which very few students (mostly Ravenclaws and Slytherins, with one or two Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors tossed in) had been admitted to. Then, it had smelled of old books, fresh coffee, and the smoke from the Ravenclaw fireplace, which had always smelled of almond wood. And, she'd been confused to note, then, there had been a faint whiff of cinnamon.

"What are you afraid of?"

She'd very nearly drifted off to sleep right there, leaning into Charlie on the stairway, standing up. The question woke her, set her mind churning.  
"Wh...what?"  
"You wanted to apologize," he said, and she could hear the smile without looking up to see it, "Here's your chance. What are you afraid of?"

No. No.  
Anything. Anything at all.  
But not that.

"I don't know," she murmured, and breathed deeply. "I'm afraid of...of pain. I don't want to hurt."  
"But not death?"  
"No, I've come to...no. Not death. But pain. And...and loss. My loss and the loss of...others. And people I love being in pain. Losing you."  
"You won't."  
"Charlie, they murdered Amelia Bones and Emmeline Vance, and they think Charity Burbage has been killed, too. We could lose anyone. Anyone at all."  
"Not us," Charlie said, whispering his assurances into her hair. "Not me. Not you. I promise."  
Don't make promises you can't keep, she wanted to say. But she kept her silence and looked up at Charlie with a thin, small smile when he pulled away.  
"Alright, love," he said, brushing errant strands of hair from her face, "Get some sleep. I'm off to the kitchen to get some tea. Maybe Bill will have stopped talking by the time I get back."  
He yawned, a big, deep yawn that seemed to come from his toes.  
"If I fall asleep standing up there tomorrow, would you catch me?" He asked, stretching his arms above his head.  
"Charlie, I think you'd crush me."  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
"That you're a good deal taller and more muscular than me, Mr. Defensive," she said. "It would be like a lion falling on a mouse."  
"Mouse? No...no, I think you'd be more of a cat type," Charlie said thoughtfully. "Or smallish dog. Like a cocker spaniel?"  
Shay laughed aloud, then slapped a hand over her mouth. With her other hand, she smacked Charlie's shoulder.  
Then winced.  
"Ooh, sorry. I forgot about..."  
"The burn?" Charlie said with a grimace. "Yeah, I figured."  
"Sorry," she whispered, and stood on tiptoe to press a soft kiss to the pained shoulder.  
"As long as I have you here to kiss it better."  
Her smile faltered, but just for a moment.  
"Yeah," she said. "We'd better go, Charlie. Sleep and all of that." She yawned, shook her head. "I'm not used to sleeping without you."  
"Nor I you."  
"'Night, Charlie."  
"G'night, my love. Sleep well."  
The door closed behind her with the softest click, and she collapsed as quietly as she could into her cot. Sleep overcame her soon enough, after Charlie's footsteps came back up the stairs and passed the door.  
And then there was morning, and a thoroughly excited Fleur and a grumbling Ginny, and Hermione and Shay rolled their eyes at each other across the mess of cots and blankets.

Mrs. Weasley was in a frenzy all day, and though Shay was surrounded by people throughout the day, she felt as though she didn't actually see anyone. It was all a whirl of red hair and flowers, disrupted every once in awhile by the blonde Delacours. The morning blended into the afternoon, and before she knew it Shay was zipping her dress and fixing her hair, slipping her feet into pretty shoes she didn't really want on her feet. And then she helps Fleur, who is near tears because the lace has torn on her dress. Thankfully, Shay's practiced fingers take up needle and thread, mended it just enough so that no one would notice. Fleur, beaming, was a rush of black and white. Shay couldn't help but think that the other girl was like a swan, just as pretty, just as graceful in her simple white dress, Auntie Murial's gold tiara glimmering in her hair.

The guests were all being led to their seats - Shay joined them, and was led to a chair by a disguised Harry Potter, with ginger hair to hide among the Weasley clan. Shay winked as she sat down and Harry grinned before moving on to help the next guest.  
Shay had been seated fairly close to the front, just behind the immediate Weasley family. Charlie, Bill's best man, entered with his brother and stood by his side, the two young men talking softly. Bill looked healthily nervous, but the smile on his face was more than enough evidence of his true feelings. Charlie caught Shay's eye and grinned, attempted to pick up a neutral expression as Ginny and Gabrielle came down the aisle. The music picked up, and everyone turned to watch a beaming and beautiful Fleur glide down the aisle toward an absolutely enamored Bill. When Shay turned to glance back at Bill, however, Charlie wasn't watching the beautiful bride - his eyes, steady and warm, were on her. Shay smiled and tilted her head pointedly toward Fleur. Charlie only shrugged.

The mothers were crying by the time vows were made, mopping up tears with handkerchiefs, struggling to hide the sound of their tears...to no avail.

"...then I declare you bonded for life."  
The words seemed to ring, filling the tent. As if everyone had held their breath, waiting to hear those words. And then, while that breath was released, a shower of stars fell from the presider's wand, falling over the entwined hands of the bride and groom. The golden balloons that had created a kind of halo around them burst, turning into singing birds of paradise and tiny, ringing golden bells. Vows finished, the tent was transformed - the walls were lifted away to reveal the sunset orchard, the countryside washed in the warm light, the chairs vanished, a dance floor and tables seemed to spring from the ground. Bottles of champagne bobbed, cheerily independent of human servers, among the crowd, pouring out streams of bubbling golden liquid to anyone who held up a flute. The newlyweds were almost immediately surrounded by well-wishers, Shay in the midst of it all. Fleur hugged her, all smiles, and thanked her profusely for her help. Bill grinned and gave her a quick hug as well. When she'd wished them well she was shuffled through the crowd, nearly losing her balance until Charlie caught her elbow.  
"Easy, there," he said. "How much champagne have you had tonight, miss?"  
"Funny," Shay said tonelessly, "You're funny."  
"And you are beautiful."  
Shay felt blood rush to her cheeks, and she looked toward the ground.  
"Come on," Charlie said, and tugged her toward the dance floor. Luna Lovegood was already there, dancing happily on her own. She waved at Shay without halting her dance. Ginny and Lee Jordan soon joined the dancers and, soon enough, Ron and Hermione.  
"About bloody time," Charlie muttered, gesturing toward the last couple when Shay looked up questioningly.  
"How long?"  
"Since the idiot met her, practically. She's been over here pretty much every summer since, and everyone but them could see it...painful, really."

The night was all sparkling champagne, whirling colors, and smiling faces. Shay passed between dancing and talking, sometimes on her own, sometimes with Charlie's arm around her waist. The cake was glorious with its two model phoenixes that shot into the air when the confection was cut. As evening fell, golden lanterns lit the tent and the guests became steadily more and more drunk on the wine and champagne and atmosphere. There had been so little to celebrate, recently. So precious little. This was an escape, a beautiful glimpse back into the time of peace that seemed as if it would last forever. As if Voldemort would always be some ineffectual wisp of smoke, curled only on the corner of their consciousness.  
They should have known, every single one of them, that it was too good to ever last.

Right in the middle of the revelry, smack in its middle, as guests were beginning to dance more and more willingly, a silvery lynx shot into the mix, and Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice poured out, silencing the commotion to listen as it intoned "The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeous is dead. They are coming".  
Disaster. Utter disaster.  
And silence.  
No one moved for solid seconds, too stunned to think. And then, suddenly, everything was motion. Sharp snaps and cracks, like whips and firecrackers, sounded as the enchantments broke and terrified guests began to Disapparate as Death Eaters Apparated into the fray. Those who couldn't Apparate fled, or tried to, while Order members began to put up Shield Charms as quickly as possible.

Shay had kicked her shoes off immediately, and ran barefoot through the grass, dodging fragments of broken champagne flutes and shattered dishes. Arms, there were arms everywhere - she ducked beneath them, the flailing limbs, and attempted to use the gap to search for a familiar face, any familiar face...but, most importantly, Charlie's. Please, she prayed, oh please let him be alright, I couldn't stand it if...oh please, oh please. Please...

A vicelike grip clenched her elbow and Shay shrieked, kicking and punching at anything she come come close to, trying her best to sling spells at her attacker.  
"Hold her still!" Someone commanded, as her wand was taken from her hand. A masked face lowered as whoever held her hand gained control of her other wrist and held her fast.  
"Saoirse Morse, I presume," the masked figure said. "Pureblood family. Though not as...clean...as we'd like. Too friendly with Muggles. Take her in for questioning."  
"SHAY!"  
No. "No!" She screamed, but it was too late. In the time it took for him to react, Death Eaters had wrestled Charlie into their clutches, as well.  
"Not to worry," one of their attackers said, "You'll be just fine...if you cooperate."  
Just fine, however, appeared to be a relative term. They pushed and shoved, spit, kicked, slapped, punched, and otherwise physically manhandled those who had remained behind until they'd gotten them into "interrogation rooms". Shay had been corralled into an upstairs room.  
"Tell us what you know," her shadowed interrogator demanded.  
"Please," Shay pleaded, unashamed of the tears escaping her eyes - perhaps they could help prove her innocence - "Please, I don't know anything, I was just here for the wedding, I..."  
"Enough! We know you're...involved with Charlie Weasley. His little slut. So we know you must know where his brother and his friends, Harry Potter and the Mudblood, are. We suggest you tell us, or the consequences will be...severe."  
"Please, I don't...!"  
"CRUCIO!"

Over and over they tried to wrest information from her, information which (thankfully) Shay honestly didn't have. Finally, convinced that the nearly-delirious girl wouldn't be able to tell them anything else, they dragged her down the stairs, head lolling, so heavy, on her neck. They dragged her into the sitting room and roughly thrust her into a chair. Instantly, she was surrounded - Mrs. Weasley pressed a gentle hand to her forehead, smoothed the hair away from her face and held her hand tightly. Ginny touched her shoulder lightly, and Fleur held a glass of cool water to her lips. Shay took the water gratefully and sipped it down, careful not to drink too much too fast, afraid it would make her sick. She'd never known such pain, such excruciating pain. Every muscle hurt, the marrow in her bones hurt, her eyes could hardly stay open so heavy were the lids. And her mind...oh, her mind hurt worst of all. Horribly, suddenly, she understood just how the Longbottoms went mad all those years ago, subjected time and time again to the Cruciatus Curse.  
And Charlie. Where was Charlie?  
"Char..."  
"Shh," Mrs. Weasley murmured, and smiled kindly at the frightened girl. "He hasn't come out yet, my dear, but he'll be alright. He will."  
As if on cue, Mrs. Weasley's second-eldest son was thrown unceremoniously into their little holding center, and was offered the same attention that had been given Shay. When he'd recovered enough to move, when he'd finished the water Fleur offered him, he went immediatley to Shay and pulled her into his arms, all but crushing her to him.  
"I could hear..." he whispered, voice strangled. "I could _hear_ you. I was just in the next room. They put a full Body-Bind on me, I couldn't speak, couldn't call out to you. _They made me listen..._"  
"I'm okay, Charlie," Shay whispered shakily, though she did not loosen her own hold on him. "We're okay."  
He nodded and fell into the chair she had been occupying, then pulled her into his lap. One by one the remaining people were returned, the Burrow was searched from top to bottom and, finally, the Death Eaters left them, leaving terror and the remnants of a broken celebration in their wake.

They stood in the kitchen for a long time in an attempt to gather their scattered nerves, drinking tea and cocoa until fatigue set in. Bill and Fleur had decided to begin their trip to Shell Cottage early - there was no reason to stick around, now, after all. The bride and groom said their farewells and Disapparated, two final pops in the cool early-morning air.  
The Ministry has fallen. The words were still echoing in Shay's mind.  
The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeous is dead. They are coming.

So many dead. So many dead, already. And there would only be more to come.  
The Second Wizarding War had finally, officially started.  
Everything was only beginning.  
A chill of terror surged through her, turning her veins to ice despite the warmth of one of Charlie's old sweaters. If this was the beginning, fire and attack on the day of a wedding, even attacking the house of poor old Dedalus Diggle...  
And so many dead already.  
Only more to come.


	22. Battle of Hogwarts

**((This is a little shorter than I expected. And leads into the next (and last!) chapter, which will be up sometime tomorrow.)) **

* * *

The waiting was the worst part. The hushed, expectant silence. The murmuring voices. The pounding of fear, hers and everyone else's, in the air. If it would just start already, if it would just happen, just end, she would be happier.  
Happier than waiting.  
The night air breezed past, tugging even at her tightly braided hair, unwinding strands from the side to brush against her face. She tucked them away without really registering them, her eyes fixed on the oncoming Death Eaters. Beside her, Professor Flitwick seemed to be feeling the same. He sighed and shifted unhappily, eyes fixed just as grimly in the same direction.  
All of this, and she knew she wouldn't know what was happening to Charlie. He had gone with Professor McGonagall to fight from Gryffindor Tower - she had gone with Professor Flitwick to Ravenclaw. Almost as it had been during school, tucked away in their own little towers.  
She hoped she'd see him again, before the end of the battle. If only to know he was still alive.

And then, with a crash and the smell of smoke and dust, the waiting was over. She didn't look to see where the first spell had hit. All that mattered was that it hadn't hit her. She fired spell after spell at the oncoming Death Eaters, attempting to slow or even halt their progress. If they could, somehow, keep them from entering Hogwarts, they'd have a better chance.

All of her life, she'd entertained the notion that there was more good in the world than evil. That people would fight for the good, when the time came.  
Where were all of those soldiers, now? Why were there so many cloaked figures streaming toward Hogwarts with murder in their eyes?

"Giants!" Flitwick shrieked, startling her out of her thoughts and away from her spells. "They have giants!" His group of fighters, looked up, and Shay could see in their eyes her own chilling fear. It ripped through her, startled her with its ferocity. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt, even during the siege of the wedding, even when the Death Eaters had tortured her. This was the kind of fear they never told you about, in all of the old tales, the myths and legends of knights, of warriors. Maybe it was simply because she was no warrior. Maybe it was some natural switch that had been flipped inside of her. Whatever the reason, she couldn't understand why such an important element had been left out.  
How horrible the fear of battle was. How paralyzing the realization of what was approaching.  
But she couldn't let it paralyze her. Not for long. If she did, it could mean ruin, could mean destruction of everything she cared about.  
She allowed it three seconds. Three shuddering seconds, eyes closed and fists clenched tightly enough to turn her knuckles white.  
And then she acted.

If someone were to ask her later what exactly she was doing atop Ravenclaw tower when Hogwarts was attacked, she wouldn't be able to tell them. Only general details would make it through her lips. Spells, yes, but which ones? Who did they hit? What did they do? She couldn't say. Her mind was working without her, it seemed. Telling her which spells to throw, where to step, when to duck the flying jets of light.  
There was an explosion somewhere behind her that rattled her bones and jangled her nerves, but she couldn't respond. The Death Eaters were quickly gaining ground, storming toward the castle.  
Then, the cry she had been dreading.  
They were inside, and Flitwick ordered the fighters into the castle - there was little else they could do from their perch, now.

Shay wasted no time. She sprinted from the tower, joining a cluster of older students at the bottom of the staircase. Hooded, cloaked figures were advancing on them, wands drawn. Soon, green light was flying, blocked only by the spells of those from the tower. As soon as she could, Shay started running down the corridors. A larger-than-most explosion shook the castle, sending dust and bits of rubble falling. The wall Shay had thrown herself against shook ominously.  
What would they do if Hogwarts fell, she wondered? If it literally fell, crashing down around their feet? If the ending of the war could all be determined by chance? Who escaped and who didn't.  
She thought as she ran, skirting every skirmish that didn't need her, joining those that did. All the time, she kept a sharp look out for Charlie. Several times she caught a flash of red hair, only to find mixed portions of relief and disappointment when she realized it was one of his siblings.  
"Charlie?" She would ask, between shouting spells. And between shouting spells, they would shake their heads. They hadn't seen him.  
Please be alright, she thought desperately, ducking under a beam of light. It had gotten to the point that she couldn't quite tell which spells belonged to whom, and she was sure some had simply been caught in the crossfire. A casualty of nothing but fate and bad timing. If Charlie had been one of those casualties, a casualty at all, she didn't know if she'd have the strength to face what she knew was coming.

Running. So much running. She was running out of breath, running out of strength. Running out of time. Gasping, she ducked behind a fallen pillar, sucking in air with great, desperate gulps. Until now, she hadn't realized she'd been shaking.  
She hadn't seen very many people she knew - it seemed a strange thing, like everyone should be here. Mum and dad and Great-Uncle Herbie. Oliver she'd seen. Many of the Weasleys, too. Katie Bell. A brief glimpse of Luna Lovegood. But the rest had been a blur of Hogwarts robes and vaguely familiar faces, of hands clutching wands and lips mouthing spells.  
Shay closed her eyes for a moment, just one, allowing her hands to stop shaking and her mind to stop whirling. When the world seemed steady again she brushed her hands off on the legs of her jeans, stood, and turned.

Right into the tip of a wand and maliciously gleaming eyes.  
"Well, well, well," said the familiar voice of her torturer, "If it isn't Charlie Weasley's little whore...EXPELLIARMUS!"  
Before the shock could wear off, before she could summon a shielding charm, her wand was gone and she was at their mercy.  
It began with another round of Crucios.  
But it did not end.  
Soon enough, she couldn't recognize her screams as her own.  
Couldn't recognize them as human.  
Couldn't think.  
Couldn't breathe.  
Couldn't stay awake.  
Couldn't...

* * *

"Good aim, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said as she fought alongside Charlie. "You would have made a decent Keeper!"  
Charlie grinned, despite the situation, and returned fire as his group made their way down through the castle from Gryffindor Tower. They'd held the Death Eaters off from above for as long as they could, but now it was time to fight face-to-face. A method which Charlie ultimately preferred. If he had to fight at all, he'd rather be able to see his enemy. Not blindly fire spells from above.

He didn't enjoy the fighting. But he did enjoy the surge of adrenaline, the competitive factor of it. If he could make it a game in his mind, maybe he would survive. Maybe Shay would survive. Maybe everyone he loved could make it out alive.  
Or, at least, most of them. He was nothing if not a realist.

Every so often the castle would shake with the force of another explosion. Every time, Charlie braced his legs more stably beneath him, got a firmer grip on his wand, and continued forward.  
It was when he reached the vicinity of the Great Hall, just a few corridors and staircases away, when it started. A terrible, high-pitched scream that hit his veins like ice water. He nearly froze in his tracks, somehow managed to continue beating back his opponent with spell after spell after spell.  
But his mind was not in the fight.  
He knew that voice.  
He knew that scream.  
He'd been forced to listen to that scream time and time again in his own home not at all long ago.  
Shay.

He beat his opponent back, overwhelmed with another surge of adrenaline, of desperation, his only thought that he had to get to her, had to get to her now. Finally, his opponent stumbled. One last spell finished him, and Charlie was flying, feet hardly touching the stars. When he hit the ground floor, the screams stopped.  
So, then, did his pulse.  
It meant one of two things.  
She had been saved.  
Or she was beyond saving.  
He saw Oliver emerge from the shadows, anger and dust smeared across his face, a long, deep gash bleeding on his forehead. Cradled in his arms was his cousin. He nodded at Charlie in grim recognition and continued on into the Great Hall, his steps even and deliberate. For a moment, all Charlie could do was watch.

Shay had been milky. Ashen. Her skin had never seemed so pale, even in deepest winter. Even when she'd been sick. Even after they'd tortured her following the wedding. Her eyes had been closed, the bright blue he knew better than even the color of the sky had been closed, her chestnut curls a tumble of tangled curls across her face. They, too, had been pale and flat with dust. She'd been limp, too relaxed, as if in sleep. Her arm had dangled over Oliver's, the hand loose, fingers uncurled. Her head had rolled with each step that Oliver took.  
When the image had settled, when he knew this was real, Charlie followed Oliver Wood into the Great Hall and skidded to a stop beside him just as they were lowering her onto a makeshift cot. All of the faces were grim as the world hurried on around them, caught in the midst of a war that Charlie could not bring himself to go back to.

She didn't look like she was breathing.

* * *

**((And so begins the part in which you may want to kill me. I did warn you.)) **


	23. Through the Night

_Hark, a solemn bell is ringing_  
_Clear through the night_  
_Thou, my love, art heavenward winging_  
_Home through the night_  
_Earthly dust from off thee shaken_  
_Soul immortal shalt thou awaken_  
_With thy last dim journey taken_  
_Home through the night_  
_-All Through The Night_

* * *

"Shay, Shay, c'mon, please, not you, too, God, not you, too..."  
The tears streaking down Charlie's face were hot, clearing pathways through the dirt and grime that had settled there. They clung to his lashes then fell to the dust, in Shay's hair. "Come on, Shay, breathe..."  
His hands fumbled for a grasp on her shoulders. His palms cupped them, his thumbs drawing desperate circles, as if that could help her. "Please."  
"Charlie..." One of his brothers said from behind him - Charlie turned halfway to face the voice, angry and terrified and sad all at once.  
"No! All due respect, Bill, but get the HELL away from me."  
"Charlie...?"

The tiny, rasping voice somehow managed to cut through Charlie's bellow. His head whipped around, eyes meeting hers instantly. She coughed and winced, whimpering as pain shot through her. "Charlie..."  
"I'm here, Shay, shh, it's alright...I'm here..."  
He lifted her up gently, holding her close to his chest. Her weak fingers lifted, trembling, to press against him, right over his heart.  
"I always...loved...that," she said, eyes flickering up to his. "Your heart is so loud, Charlie...so loud..." Her eyes were drifting closed again, eyelashes casting shadows on her too-pale skin.  
"No. No, no, Shay, nonono, don't do that. Come on, look at me."  
Her eyes blinked open, shocking blue against the grey and black of the ruined battlefield, shocking blue against the grey dust that smeared her face like charcoal. She looked confused.  
"Why do you keep...waking me up...Charlie? I'm so...so tired."  
Suddenly she grimaced, the gesture contorting her face, and every muscle tensed. She arced her back and wailed. When she fell silent again she was trembling uncontrollably.  
"Merlin," Charlie hissed, "Merlin, what did they do to you?"  
Panting, Shay looked up at him blankly.  
"Everything...hurts, Charlie...everything...hurts."  
"I know, darling, I know. I wish I could help..."

The best he could do was hold her closer, kiss her forehead, whisper nonsense about staying with him and surviving, about going home to Dracul and Cadfael.  
"Char...lie?" She began to cough again. A trickle of blood ran down from the corner of her mouth. Charlie stared at the crimson streak in horror. "It's alright...it's all...the way...it should be."  
Her fingers had crept up from his shirt. They were now tracing the line of his jaw, playing over the trails his tears had left.  
"It's alright," she whispered again.  
"What are you talking about? You have to fight, Shay, for me, please...for Cat, for Cad..."  
"Charlie, I...I want to but I don't...don't think I can."  
She was gasping for the breath to say each word and wincing with every inhale. "It hurts...just...to breathe. It never said it would...be like this."  
"Shay, what are you...?"  
"The proph...prophec...cy,"  
"What...?"  
"Shh-shh" Shay's fingers fluttered over Charlie's mouth - he grasped the hand and pressed his lips to her palm, as if he could anchor her. "Talk to...Luna...she knows."

Shay laughed, and it rattled in her throat, gurgled with blood. Charlie cringed, stroking the hair back from her face.

"Charlie,"

He turned at the new voice, finding Madam Pomfrey leaning over his shoulder with a bottle of some kind of potion.

"Try this."

Charlie grabbed the bottle and hastily poured some of it into Shay's mouth. She winced and swallowed, seeming to choke on it halfway down. Yet nothing happened. Charlie twisted desperately to look at Madam Pomfrey.  
"I'm sorry, Charlie," she said, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes "All I could do was dull the pain."  
"But..." Charlie looked at Madam Pomfrey, then to Bill (who shook his head), and then to Cat, dissolved to nothing but a puddle of tears in the arms of an older Hufflepuff boy Charlie didn't recognize. He held out a hand to her and she fell into them, Charlie's arm around her shoulders, crying into Shay's.  
"H-hey, Kitten," Shay murmured, placing one of her hands on top of her sister's head, then wiping the tears from her face. "I'm so glad you're alright."  
"Shay..."  
Shay shook her head and the young girl bit back sobs.  
"Shh. I love you, Cat. With all of my heart."  
"Love you, too, Shay,"  
"T-t-take care of...Mum and...and Dad, for me...okay? And...and Tur...nip, too."  
Cat nodded, whimpering slightly as her attempt to not cry began to fail.  
"It's...going to be...alright, Cat. I...I promise. Don't...cry too much, al...alright?"

Shay was wheezing, the air hissing in her lungs. Charlie swallowed a rising lump of his own tears as she reached up for him again, her hand falling through his hair to rest on her shoulder.  
"It's so c-c-cold, Char...Charlie."  
A sob pulled through his throat - it felt as if it could rip him apart. He pulled her closer, kissed her jaw, stroked her hair, trying to make her remember what it felt like to be warm and safe.  
"I'm so sorry, Shay, I'm so sorry. I failed you, I let you die..."  
"No." She coughed, afterward, but the word was the strongest she'd spoken yet. "Don't...don't say...that. Ever. It's not...not your fault. You...were the greatest thing to...happen to me."  
Charlie's tears escaped again, and it was only then that he realized she was crying, too. One of his tears landed on her face, mingling with the ones she was shedding.  
"I love you, Shay," He said simply. She smiled and then, to his surprise, began to sing.  
"Then the lion and the dove  
Mingle tears and mourn their love  
In the day war meets its end..."  
The effort proved to be too much for her - her voice cut out, leaving Charlie to try and assemble the sense behind her words.  
"That's...Shay, that's the lullaby, why..."  
She simply smiled, eyes slipping closed slowly, the fingers tracing his face slowing their motion.  
"Shay, don't do this..."  
"Promise...me..."  
"Anything,"  
"...That you won't...always...be sad. Be happy...Charlie...please. And take...care of...them."  
"Of course. Shay, of course, of course I will."  
"I love...you."  
"I love you, too."

Her breathing was labored, her eyes glazing over.  
And then she went still, her head falling back over his hand, eyes staring unseeing at the sky. Her hand slipped from Charlie's face, fell to her lap, and then slid off of her jeans and onto the dust beside her.

"No. No, no...no!" His last no turned into a howl he couldn't contain, silencing those murmuring around him. He knelt in the dust, holding Shay's still body as close as he possibly could, tears falling fast, now, and freely. Cat tugged on his arm and he held her close, too, as he would Ginny, resting his head against hers as they mourned Shay's death.  
Somewhere deep in the woods, Harry Potter opened his eyes to the world again. As Charlie and Cat continued to mourn, Hagrid brought his body back to the castle. Charlie was sure his already mangled heart froze at the sight of the dead hero, as every sense of hope slipped from the battlegrounds. As if brought to him on the breeze, Shay's lullaby played in his mind.

_After all is said and done  
__And the dark meets with the One,  
__Then the lion and the dove  
__Mingle tears and mourn their love.  
__In the day war meets its end  
__Then, the dove, it will be penned  
__To meet its fate, no more to sing  
__As freedom's sacrifice takes wing.  
__Only then when her time's done  
__Shall dark surrender to the sun_

The prophecy. He realized what it was with a start, as sudden and sharp as a knife to the ribs. It had been her prophecy, and she hadn't known it until Luna and Harry and the rest came back from the Ministry. It seemed so long ago. He remembered, with a swift jolt of pain, the way she'd taken to sitting still and silent, lost in thought, for days after their return.  
He had been the lion. She had been the dove. A symbol of peace sacrificed to attain what she symbolizes. Sairose, whose name meant freedom, had been sacrificed to attain just that. It was like some horrible riddle. He'd never believed in prophecies, never paid them much attention. But tonight...  
Harry was battling Lord Voldemort, their voices mingling in Charlie's numb mind like two separate strands of music. Then, as the sun rose red and light burst across the enchanted ceiling, both wizards shouted different spells - Voldemort's to kill, Harry's to disarm. And then Voldemort was sent flying, hit the floor, and Harry was left standing above the corpse holding two wands. The Hall went silent for just a moment and then, relieved and joyful beyond all comprehension, the crowd began to cheer, pressing in on Harry to touch him, to talk to him. But Charlie couldn't move, still paralyzed with the death of Shay and the realization of the prophecy and these new events happening in such quick succession. He didn't much notice the crowds celebrating and mourning around him. He remained sitting by Shay's body, her face so peaceful as to be sleeping. He hardly noticed when Harry sat down beside him.  
"I'm sorry, Charlie," he said, and his voice was so sincere that Charlie felt nothing but acceptance of the sentiment.  
"There was a prophecy," Charlie said, voice unnaturally low and level, "She had a prophecy: Only then when her time's done /Shall dark surrender to the sun. And that's exactly how it happened."  
"What d'you..."  
"Her prophecy called her a "dove," and "freedom's sacrifice" in the last day of the war. Today. Those were the last lines. And that's what happened. She died. You killed Vol...Voldemort. And the sun rose." He laughed bitterly, and Harry put a hand on his shoulder. "And Fred's gone, too. And Remus and Tonks." Charlie shook his head, as if he could shake the thoughts straight out. Harry remained silent and stood.  
"I'm sorry," he said again. "I'll be back, Charlie."  
Charlie nodded, but did not watch as Harry disappeared into the crowds to do the duty of a hero. He leaned against the wall, tilting his head up to watch the sun continue to rise across the enchanted ceiling.

* * *

They buried her on a windy day - the Weasleys and the Morse family, Harry, the Lovegoods, Claire, Ana, Shay's friends from the horse farm and a few of her favorite horses.

The thestrals, for Charlie, were particularly hard to bear. They seemed to weep, heads bowed, shoulder-to-bony-shoulder with each other. Charlie stood over the freshly-covered grave with nothing to give, with Cad perched on his shoulder.

"Goodbye, Shay," he whispered as the rest slowly headed down the hill, mingling together in tight little knots.. "Of all the people to die, it shouldn't have been you. I wish that the prophecy didn't have to come true. I love you. We miss you already. Take care of everybody out there for me, alright, love? You always were good at that."  
Cad shrieked, and a more mournful sound Charlie could not imagine.  
"I know, little one," he said as he scratched the dragon beneath the chin. "Me, too."  
With matching tears in matching sad eyes, man and dragon moved out to start their lives without Shay - a broken little family who would have almost rather lost their freedom, if it meant getting to keep the sacrificial lamb.

* * *

_"—time is a tree(this life one leaf)_  
_but love is the sky and i am for you_  
_just so long and long enough"_

_-as freedom is a breakfastfood_

_e.e cummings_

* * *

**((And there you have it. I really enjoyed the experience of writing this with/for all of you...your support has been incredible. Thank you so, so much for all of the reviews, favorites, and alert adds. It has really meant a lot! **

**I hope you don't mind the ending too much - it has been planned this way from the beginning. The idea of all of those prophecies shattering is what inspired it.**

**You're all amazing - thank you for sticking with this story until the very end! **

**And If you're at all interested, you will be seeing more from me in the near future... : ) ))**


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